Dreaming
by M. Love
Summary: Sylar's head has a price sticker. That's why he's fleeing to Bray, Louisianna where Jane Hart lies in wait. But can she give up everything for a murderer who is hunted and hated by everyone? Is it a love worth everything she has? And can he really change?
1. Outside

_And you  
Can bring me to my knees  
All this time  
That I could make you breathe  
All the times  
I felt insecure  
All those times  
That I tried  
My intentions  
Full of pride  
And I waste  
More time then anyone  
'Cause I'm on the outside  
And I'm looking in_

-Outside by Staind

Noah Bennet's knee presses into the girl's back, his hand against her head as he tries to bury it deeper into the sandy ground. Sylar stands towering over the two figures, and that's when something grabs him. He looks down to see that the girl is trying to get him to help her. Her trust in him washes through his whole body, and it fuels his powers past their normal scope.

In less then a second, Sylar has the man floating meter above the ground, freeing the girl.

"This is how you thought you'd get to me?" Sylar laughs deliciously as he looks up at Bennet, the man's horned rim glasses slipping off his nose. "You should have known I'd stop you hurting her."

The girl is wheezing now, trying, and failing to stand up. Sylar flicks his wrist and sends Bennet flying into the oblivion of the shifting dream-scape surrounding them. Sylar then bends over and offers the poor girl his hand, feeling his heart pound in his chest at the simple fact that she takes his offer of help. Her hand grasps him tightly, relying on him to help her to her shaky feet, and Sylar fights back the urge to just pull her to his chest and reassure himself that she still exists.

She steadies herself against him, and Sylar raises his hand to touch her cheek. But suddenly the girl is gone, and there is a burning sensation on his legs that has him wrentched from his dream.

"What the-" Sylar spluttered as his dark eyes shot open.

"Sorry, pal," laughed a nervous man at his side. "But it's all this turbulance! I couldn't help it."

Sylar looked down at his lap and saw the spilt soup darkening his already black jeans. It was hot, and he could feel the burn as it leaked in through his boxers. Sylar turned a sharp eye on the man who seemed to be shrink in the moments that Sylar spent observing the damage.

"Will you excuse me," Sylar seethed.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"Goddamn it." Sylar fumesd to himself as he looked down at the wet patch on his black jeans. If he couldn't heal himself that man would truly be regretting his mistake. But as it was, Sylar could, so the man was spared.

With a deep breath Sylar looked into the mirror to assess himself. The hideous white bathroom light brought the whole scene to a garish white that had Sylar, dressed head to toe in black, sticking out like a sore thumb.

His danger vibes were magnified in his anger, and Sylar tired to calm himself down. His newly reacquired powers sometimes went heywire when he had powerful emotions. Going through airport security acting like a man in a rage was probably not great for lying low. And that was the only reason that had Sylar retreating out of New York and into Luoisina – to simply stay below the radar until things calmed down.

Sylar was no fool. Who ever killed Petrelli was connected, most likely to the older generation of special people, or even worse, with the company. Sylar knew that they'd be taking out the more powerful beings who were trying to change the world. Nathan Petrelli had been about to reveal his secret. Eveyone who had some kind of power, and knew the deep desire to tell everyone about it, could have recognised the high timbre his voice had caught right before three bullets had peirced his main organs.

Sylar would hide for how ever long it took until they had given up on him. For the time being, Luoisiana was as far as he was going to go. After all, there were gifted people everywhere. It was just a shame that Peter and Maya, the gifts that Sylar truly wanted, were stuck in the ever protected New York.

"We are about to descend into Louisiana." said the captian over the intercom. "Please take your seats, put your trays in the upright position and remember the seatbelt sign is turned on."

Sylar let out a groan and dragged his feet to the bathroom door. He slid it open with a scowl and stalked down the aisle toward his seat.

The man peered up with a look of a trapped animal, but Sylar effected not to notice him at all. He slid around the man's protruding belly into his own seat, and strapped in for landing.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

It was too hot to be bared as Sylar made his way out of the pleasantly cooled airport. He reluctnatly slipped off his overcoat and his hoody, before stuffing them into his duffle bag.

He strecthed out his body and looked around at the vast carpark. All he had to do was break into a car, and then put his skills to use prgramming it. Thanks to Charlene Andrews, he could absorb any information he wanted to, and he had started at robbery.

Sylar stalked down the long lines, observing the more expensive cars the power hungry side of himself wanted to jack. But the laying low, quiet side of Sylar that had him surviving this long, took him past them to the more low key cars.

_It's like some illegal car showing_, Sylar thought to himself as he scratched at his five o'clock shadow.

Finally, Sylar spotted a black BMW that looked a few years old. The black wasn't glossy, but the windows were tainted – which suited Sylar's purposes just fine.He slipped in, got it hot wired, and located a map of outer Luoisiana, all under two minutes.

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he leant back in the car and folded his arms behind his head. The airconditioning was yanked up until the car was like a wind tunner.

Sylar's smile broadenes evilly as he reverses out of the spot, and makes his way out onto the freeway.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Bray, Luoisiana was a small town that sat just off the highway. Its white houses covered by large towering trees, hiding it from all civalization. The small town of about 1000 wasn't even on the map, making it the ideal haven for Sylar.

It was late afternoon, the sun still boiling hot, when Sylar noticed his fuel tank was near empty. He took the next exit, thinking he'd just find a solitary rest stop and a gas pump. But as soon as he made the sharp turn, the wood bowed out to reveal a small town square.

Sylar had spent a good half hour driving through the town, marking down that his black atire might not make the best first impression. Most men wore suits even though the sun baked them, and if it wasn't suits it was sweaty muscle shirts stretching over beer bellys and belted jeans.

He parked down a side street and changed into his khaki pants and blue button up shirt. Sylar combed his hair back in teh rearview mirror, and slipped on his glasses. He almost looked like he did when he went to visit his mother for the last time. She had been the only one to believe in him, and she was killed. His one link to humanity – killed by her own son.

_Maybe that's why the girl from the dream has begun to appear_, mused Sylar, _maybe she's my mind trying to save me and everyone from my dangerous powers..._

Sylar readjusts his glasses and slippe dout of his car. His long legs moving across the steaming black tar up to the post office. He looked in through the front window and judged the rental properties in the area. Some looked promising, but he wanted privacy, and most of them looked like expensive BnBs disguised as rent rooms.

With a deep, calming breath, Sylar pushed open the door, making the bell tinkle loudly in the stillness of the shop. The postman was chatting idly with a woman dressed in a nurse's outfit. They both looked up hopefully at Sylar's approach and smiled welcoming. His outfit must have been work.

"Hey there! Welcome to Bray!' the postman enthused, shaking Sylar's hand once he arrived at the front desk. The woman subtly moved off, going to look through the magazine rack. "How can I help you?"

"Hey there," Sylar said back, smiling as he pretended to look through the town's paper. "I have an enquiry to make, if its no trouble."

"Us Bray-ians are always happy to help new comers." The man replied, rubbing his ink stained hands on his white and yellow plaid shirt.

Syler's smile grew a little more. "Great. I'm looking for a room. And I saw all your great adds out front, but I'm wondering if someone like you, who probably knows everyone in this town," the postman guffawed happily, "would like to recommend one to me."

"Well, there's a lot of great places. It really depends on what you want."

"Oh," Sylar shakes his head, "what a fool I am, of course. I'm looking for somewhere quiet. I want a good atmosphere with people who I can trust. Also," Sylar leaned in, and, wth the air of telling a deep secret, told the man; "I'm not a great fan of Bed and Breakfasts."

The postman chuckled as they draw away. "A young man like yourself - that's to be expected."

The man then turned to the woman whose nose was buried deep in an issue of OK!. "Hey, Suze."

She looked up with a bright smile, her whole face seemingly open and inviting. Sylar smiled sweetly back at her, though wasn't really impressed by her sainthood. It usually made him more wary then anything, seeing as he was not saintly in anyway.

"Yes,Tim?" she replied, smiling happily towards the postman.

She'd heard every word.

"This young man's looking for a room to rent." Tim the Postman replied, gesturing grandly to Sylar.

"Well, hey there!" says the woman, moving up to Sylar and offering her hand. "My name's Susan Hart."

"Hello," Sylar said with a wide smile. "Gabriel. Gabriel Grey. Am I to assume you have a room for rent?"

Susan nodded and sppoke in a bright voice, "Yeap. Just on the outskirts of town. Its such a big house, too big for my family of three. Well, I say three; but my husband is on business so much it feels like just the three of us. I figured, why not open it up for new comers like you."

Sylar kept his friendly smile across his face as he nodded back. "I think it's a brilliant idea."

Tom moved off to help another customer, and Susan led Sylar out into the parking lot where he noticed his black car was parked right next to her light blue box car. She laughed lightly at this coincidence, and Sylar kept his smile fixed, knowing that he had to make a brilliant and charming impression so that when the money ran out, he could call up on it to keep him there.

"Here, let me get out some directions for you," spoke Susan, opening her passenger door as she speaks.

"You said there's three of you..." Sylar said as he leant against his own car's door.

"Oh yes," Susan laughed, her hand now rummaging through the papers in her glove compartment. "I have two daughters. They're both in senior year here in the local highschool. They're twins, but so very different."

"Ah," Sylar said, his brow furrowing. He hadn't been expecting that. Girls weren't really part of his plan for a quiet existance. He wondered what they were like. He really hoped they weren't as siantly and over helpful as their mother – though teenagers rarely were. If he was lucky they were seventeen, and therefore out of his reach. Eighteen year olds, adults in their own right, might be a bit of a temptation for him.

"Yes," sayid Susan as she drew out from her car. "Jane and Sasha Hart. You might run into Jane when you get over there. Sasha just got excepted onto the swim team, so she'll be at practice!"

Sylar opened his mouth in fake excitement for Sasha Hart. He really hoped that Jane was ugly, deatched and snarky. And Sasha was butch... Romaticizing with young adults wasn't really below the radar. Sylar was just wondering if there was anyway out of the deal, as Susan's smile broadens.

"Here you are, Gabriel!" she said, the papers in her hand.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

The house was just like the photo, tall with two storeys and peeked with an attic. It was covered in white veneer that took on the red sunset like paint. There was a surrounding wood that seemed to dwarf the white structure. The window curtains on the second floor were drawn against the sun, but downstairs Sylar could see the flashing light of a TV.

Sylar parked his car on the street in front of the house, and stepped out quietly. If he was lucky he could slip up into the guest room on the second floor without Jane Hart spotting him. Sylar slipped his duffle bag over his shoulder and started to walk silently along the crushed gravel driveway. A beat up brown pick up sat next to the house, and Sylar peered into the cab to see a Biology12 text book left on the passenger seat, and a crystal heart dangling from the rearview mirror.

_No doubt Jane's car_, Sylar thinks to himself, as the crystal heart catches the dying sun rays and throws small rivets of colored sun onto the rusted brown interior.

He moved across the backyard, the long green grass denting to his footsteps then springing back up again. The tips of the trees around him glowed red, and Sylar took in the scene; the subtle beauty of it wasn't lost on him.

_Teenagers or not, this actually might not be a horrible place._

As Sylar moved along the back of the house, he could hear the evening news recapping Nathan Petrelli's death. The girl inside was breathing deeply, and Sylar could hear her whimper slightly as she heard Petrelli's mother make a an appeal. Sylar rolled his eyes and continued on.

He reached the steps to the front porch and began to ascend them. This sets off a light that dangles from the white porch covering, and sends Sylar cursing up the rest of the steps. He could already hear the heartbeat from inside quicken painfully, and he flinched. He'd been spotted.

Sylar tried one last ditch effort to slip in quietly, hoping that the girl will pass off the commotion as some form of wildlife straying from the encircling woods. Sylar manages to open the door silently, and step into the dark corner without any more noise, and as he shut the door behind him, he could hear Jane's heart beat begin to slow.

Sylar peered around and spotted a figure sitting on the couch a few meters away. Her brown hair shone in the dim lamp light as the young girl finally let out a sigh of relief. Sylar watched with held breath as she bent forward and scooped up a bowl from the coffee table.

As she stood to go into the kitchen, Sylar noticed her delicious curves in her blue shorts and clingy white t-shirt. She wasn't small or thin in any way, her body a very attractive hourglass. Her hips sway to and fro invitingly as she walks away from the couch.

_How could she be just 18?_

She sighed once more, set her bowl in the sink, and turned on the water. Sylar licked his lips as he watched her small hand travel under the water, her palm turning up to feel the water warm against her sensitive skin.

He walked up towards her back, his figure immerging from the shadows and into the light. Her hair swayed as she shook her head. _What could have her so absent minded that she can't feel me?_ Most of the people he met sensed him, felt their instincts pick up on his danger. She seemed oblivious as she squeezeD soap into her bowl and began to scrub.

Sylar felt another smile slip across his lips, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Hello."

The resulting scream made him feel better - it was probably better she feared him - His reaction to her could have had bad consicqunces. The plate crashing on the floor splashed soap and water onto their legs, and Jane leant forward with a gasp.

Sylar instantly froze and stared down – her hand was resting against his chest.


	2. Together

_Something just insn't right  
I can feel it inside  
The truth isn't from behind me  
You can't deny  
When I turn the light off  
When I close my eyes  
Reality overcomes me  
I'm living a lie_

-Together by Avril Lavigne

Her surroundings blink and shudder, an everchanging landscape that swirls around her collapsed figure. She tries to claw at what ever is pinning her down, but when she touches it, it slides through her grasping fingers like sand. She screams out brokenly, but all that reaches her is an echo of that call.

"Please," she begs it. "I can't breathe!"

Who ever it is lets out its own whimper, but doesn't desist in crushing her to the ground. She tries pleading again, but finds no air to continue. Her whole body now feels like lead, and the lack of oxygen makes her head pound.

A man appears before her instantly - a dark figure that she can only see from the knees down. She uses her failing arms to reach out and touch him, and feels a warmth grow in her when she finds he doesn't disappear.

"Help," she wheezes to him, her eyes fluttering.

All of a sudden, the weight pinning her down is thrown off her, and she finds her lungs sucking back air thankfully. She struggle to use her limbs, to move away while she has a chance, but she can't seem to get enough air to her muscles to do so.

"Here Jane," the man says in a familiar, warm voice. He offers me her hand and she lets go of his black shoe to make a grab for it. His hand is warm and assuring, and suddenly everything seems unimportant when compared to the fact that he's holding her tight.

She raises her shining eyes to try and see his face, but its cast in shadows by a black baseball cap. She begins to open her mouth to say something, and suddenly the whole scene is taken over by a brilliant white light.

"Oh god..." she gasped, sitting up bolt straight and fingering her wild hair as she closed her eyes against the morning sun. "That damn dream again!"

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane brushed out her blue shorts as she leaned sleepily against the kitchen counter. Her eyes struggled to stay open, and her whole body seemed to want to give out. Those dreams always seemed to drain her, and made her whole body feel as if she hadn't slept a wink.

The toast jumped excitedly out of the toaster, shocking her from her drowsy state. She threw them onto a plate quickly and spread butter across the surfaces while they were still hot. The day ahead of her loomed, and so she pushed it away in favour of the mystery man.

He was always there, always making her feel safe the moment he appears. She could never see his face, and everytime she tried she could almost feel her heart breaking from disappointment.

_Why don't I just tell him to take off the hat? Why don't I ask him how he knows I'm always in trouble? _

_Why do I put so much damn stock in a silly dream?_

"You're up?"

Jane turned around in shock, and saw her mother, Susan Hart, smiling from the bottom of the stairs. Jane swallowed the lump of toast she had been absently chewing and nodded.

Susan Hart always managed to look like she's glowing - Jane figued it was her self sacrifices that gave her that saintly appearance. A single mom of two teenaged girls, a member of the town council, a hospice worker and an open house for new comers down on their luck, had her mom floating around with the knowledge she did only good. It makes Jane feel a right loser when she's around her, knowing all _she_ did is mooch to and from school wondering why an 18 year old had no idea what she wants from life.

"Morning, mom," Jane mumbled as she stuffed the rest of the toast into her mouth. "What's up?"

Susan walked towards her daughter, her feet padding across the tiles until she could wrap the girl up in a hug. When she drew away, Jane noticed she was wearing her nurse sweats.

"You have to work?" she cried out indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. "Mom, you said you wouldn't have to! I was going to make some pasta."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Susan cooed, "but Ms. Tupper is taking a turn for the worse. I have to be there with her."

"Oh." Jane said, stumped, "Sorry."

"Make it anyway," says Susan brightly. "Maybe I'll be able to kick off early."

Jane gave grimace, knowing her mother would only be able to get off early if Ms. Tupper "checked out" early. How could she make food with the hope of that?

"No mom," she spoke to the floor, "it's ok. Maybe next time."

"Ok," Susan sighed as she leant in to kiss Jane's forhead. "Next week."

"I had that dream again," Jane said to her mothers back as she walked to the fridge.

"That's nice, dear."

Jane rolled her eyes and moved out of the kitchen, walking over to the dining table whereher schoolbag lay waiting. She slung it over her shoulder and gave her mom a small smile.

"I'll see you tonight," Jane says as she tried to make a go for the backdoor.

"Where's your sister?" Susan asked suddenly, and Jane cringed. In her stationary stanze, her hand clentched around the doornob, she stared hopelessly at the edge of the forest that met their backyard.

_If only my sister could stumble out of them, smiling and waving at me as if to tell me everything is ok._

"Well?" her mom promptes.

Jane slowly turned herself around, her brain whirled quickly as it tried to serach for a good excuse. Susan's eyes were sharp and peircing, making Jane feel as if her mother could pull all her secrets out.

"Swimming practice." she answered hesitantly. Jane's eyes travelled to a spot just past my mom's shoulder.

"Swimming practice," her mom repeated.

"Yeah," Jane said quickly, readjusting her backpack straps. "She tried out last night, that's why she came home late, after you went to bed. She got in, and now she's at her first morning practice."

"Oh," Susan said, her lips smiling proudly as she absorbed the lie as truth. "My little girl is so talented!"

"Yes," Jane nodded, just happy she swallowed it. "Very." Then she turned and rushed out the back door, before Susan could ask her anything else.

It was a hot day in Louisiana, the sun already baking the lawn. Jane's brown hair brushes the back of my neck and I already feel like I'm suffocating in the heat. Her brown truck waits in the driveway, and one can only imagine the oven it had become in the hours sitting idle in that weather.

Jane grumbled as she took out her car keys and unlocked the driver seat door. Her backpack was thrown in first just as a wave of heat hit her face like a punch.

"Oh bugger." Jane gasped as she moved away from the opening and leant against the metal body of the car. "Oh freaking hell!" she cried out again, jumping away as her skin burnt in protest.

"Jane!" she heard, and as she turn towards the street she coudl already hear her sister's giggles. Sasha Hart was happily tripping out of a black beat down car, her clothes ruffled and her hair a mess. The girl turned, leant in through the passenger window and kissed the driver. He was differnet to the red rabbit driver from the week previous, and Jane watched wistfully as the pair passionately locked lips.

Sasha straigtened up and the boy burnt some rubber as he peeled out. Jane rolled her eyes, and watched as her sister stared after the boy for a few more moments. Sasha was beautiful, her light brown hair long and around her waist as it sparkled in the sun. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday morning, and it made indignant anger bubble up in Jane.

_How dare she just assume I'll cover for her? Why should I cover up for her as she goes around with every boy from our senior year? _

Finally, Sasha turned around and walked over to Jane, a spring to her step.

_I wonder how long __this__ one will last_, Jane wonders dryly.

"He's the one." She stated happily. She pressed a hand against a burnt red cheek and beamed, "Look, I'm all flushed!"

"Its already 30 degrees out! Of course, you're flushed." Jane mumbled as crossed her arms over her chest.

Sasha's clothes were dirty, like she'd been rollinga round in dirt, and her hair was in knots and swirls. She looked like a tornado victim as she played idly with he lipstick smudged lips.

"You could at least try and look normal when you're coming home," Jane snarked, moving towards the cab of her truck so she didn't have to look at her eyes.

_I'm just jealous,_ Jane scolded, _but I won't tell __her__ that_.

"What did you tell mom?" Sasha asked, her hands brushed some errant hairs out of her sweating face as she spoke.

"You got on the swimming team last night." Jane replied hotly as she jammed the key into the ignition. "You were at morning practice."

She turned her key and heard the engine roar. The sound reminded her of a lion, and she smiled indulgently as the car began to vibrate to life, rumbling as she shifted her gears into reverse.

"What!? Jane! I can't even swim!" her sister yelled over the pur. "Are you dense?!"

"Sorry, Sasha!" she yelled back darkly, turning to look at Sasha through her grimy window. "Next time lie for your friggin' self!"

Than Jane backed up quickly, flicking gravel up at Sashqa as she beat her hasty retreat. Sasha Hart had a terrible temper that might have had a windsheild shattered by a pitched cork wedge. She got it from their dad; and ever since he deserted, Sasha decided to compensate for the lack of temper that resulted.

_Thank god I'm as normal as I am._

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"This is 96.7, The Tunage. Coming up next, the new Papa Roach."

Jane switched the radio off as she swung her car into the driveway of her home. As she passed by the front lawn, she tried to peer into the house for evidence of habitation, but saw nothing.

_Of course not, Ms. Tupper has been 'taking a turn for the worst' for the past month now. Why should she stop now?_

She turned her keys, and the engine cut its self off mid roar. The silence that followed was only punctuated by the cicadas and crickets playing their buzz mellody in the early afternoon. Jane grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat and slipped it up her arms an onto her shoulders. She then pushed open her door and swung her legs out into the open air.

Her hair, now up in a poytail, swung around and touched her heated cheek as she jumped out from the cab. There was a light breeze coming as 5pm approached. And the sun, close to touching the tips of the trees, was a tinted red color.

Jane un hitched the back of her pick up and heaved herself up into the back. Her groceries were stored in four old milk cartons that were strapped down, it took a good few inutes of muscle straining to release the catches and free the boxes. Jane liked the work though, the muscle straining activity took her mind off the dream for what seemed like the first time that day.

She brought it all in, box after box, and unpacked in silence.

The house was quiet apart from the ruste of plastic, and the opening and closing of cupboards. Jane looked forward to curling up on the couch with her meal and watching some bad TV.

_Maybe mom and Sasha being out won't be the worst thing in the world._

An hour later saw Jane Hart flipping through the channels as she cast my empty bowl aside.

"-Where you lead, I will follow-"

"-So You Think You Can Dance-"

"-Lucky there's a Family Guy-"

"-Kramer!-"

"-Today, on Breaking News at 6pm."

She froze, her hand on the next channel button as she watched a figure flash on the screen. She recognised the smiling man as that New York Senator who got shot the day before. The newscaster spoke on in a firm, knowledgeable tone that her lips seemed to have no trouble forming around.

"Nathan Petrelli, who resigned only a month ago, was holding a confrence yesterday afternoon when he was shot point blank by someone in the crowd."

A clip was shown of the man, whose strong, heroic jaw was dropped low as he looked down at the bleeding holes in his stomach. A man at his left side, who looked distinctly like him, grabbed Petreli as he slipped sideways. The cameraman loost the scene of the dying senator in search of the shooter, but nothing came of the following moments but scenes of a panic stricken crowd, all trying to rush for cover from a murder who seems to have disappeared.

"The police are making a desperate plea for anyone with information to call the hotline shown at the bottom of the screen."

Jane looked down at the number, marking it in her mind in some vain hope that she had any information to help. But it was all miles away, in a state that she'd only seen in TV shows. Jane had no hope of helping them, though she wished she did.

Nathan Petrelli's mother and brother then fill the screen as they make a statement. The mother, whose eyes were filled with tears, spoke into a microphone, her voice wavering with emotion. The brother, Peter Petrelli, stood silent, his hands clasped behind his back, as his eyes bored holes into the ground.

"My son only aimed to help." Mrs. Petrelli said. "And his time was cut tragically short by a man, who I can only say, is a villan. Who ever you are," she spoke now to the camera, "Please, leave my family to their greif. Turn yourself in."

She stepped down from the podium and took her son by the upper arm. He wrentched it free from her though, and snarled something descreetly into her ear. As he stormed off, his mother's shoulders shook with suppressed cries, and she was fianlly helped off by a police officer.

Jane shook her head slowly and switched the TV off. Unable to take anymore of their tears.

She recalled the day when he was elected, the news of his victory big enough to interest all of Louisiana. Jane had been happy for him, as much as she could be anyway. It had been a few days after her 18 birthday, and a month after her dad had left. She had watched Nathan making pleadges to help his people, to be faithful to all, and had wished her father could be more like that. To be more trustworthy.

_But my dad never loved me enough to earn my trust. And I never loved him enough to give it willingly._

She moved to get off the couch, and that's when her whole life began to change.

The back porch light, that was motion activated, switched on. She could hear the porch boards squeak under weight, and felt fear grip at her stomach. Her sister barely weighed 120 - she wouldn't make those noises - and her mother always entered through the front door.

Jane's whole body turned rigid as she strained for any tell tale signs of a burglar. But nothing came, and after a few moments, the porch light turned off.

Her whole body relaxed as the silence fell upon her once more. Jane let out a sigh, and took her bowl off into the kitchen, still feeling a little off, but figuring it was from the lack of rest she had the night before. Jane turned on the faucet of the sink and waited until it turned hot before she began to wash out her single dish. The silence stretched on.

_Sometimes I feel so alone._

"Hello, Jane."

She screamed so loud that the dish crashing on the floor barely registerd.


	3. Prodigal

_Not far from here  
You see me crack  
Like a bone, Like a bone  
I'm so breakable  
And I'll take everything from you  
But you'll take anything  
Won't you?_

-Prodigal by One Republic

The man's heart was tangible through his shirt as Jane leant hard against him. Her heart beat so hard it made her dizzy, and her head swam as her eyes took in the stranger's appearance. Even though he could have been a burglar, raper, murderer, Jane felt suddenly very safe as she held tightly to his blue shirt. She could feel herself swaying even closer to the stranger, but he caught her and pushed her firmly up.

"Hello there," he said again, his smile dimmed slightly by some other emotion.

Jane blinked and shook her head like a dog trying to dry itself off. She wanted to be able to speak, but found his presence so overpowering she almost couldn't. He reminded her so clearly of her dreams that Jane found herself taking in his face with a reverance.

"I'm Gabriel," the man continued to say, looking slightly worried at her continued silence. "You must be Jane."

"What," she snapped suddenly, blinking rapidly as she felt her feet touch the ground once more. "How do you know my name?"

"Your mother," Sylar quickly explained, his smile spreading. "That's how I got in, if you were ever going to ask me. Unless having men sneak into this house is a common practice."

"I was going to ask you," Jane snapped back, trying to make up for her earlier hesitation. "You just scared me."

"Sorry," he replied, spreading his hands as if to surrender. "I should have made myself known."

Jane bent down to pick up the shatter bowl, and Sylar bent down too. As Jane moves to collect the jigsaw of china, their faces brush past each other in one heart stopping moment. They both freeze, their hands hovering over the jagged fragments, as their noses almost brush.

"Er..." Jane floundered, the smell of shaving cream and masculinity almost making her fall backwards. His whole body seemed to give off vibes, and they had Jane wanting to wrap herself in them.

Sylar gulped, but continued to stare at her, and Jane felt all sense leave her as she got caught in his dark brown eyes. But before she could regain herself, Sylar had already collected some fragments and stood.

_How does he make me so confused?_

"Sorry," Jane sighed, scooping up the rest of fragments delicately as she stood. "I am Jane."

She dumped the broken bowl into the sink and then turned to offer Sylar her hand. "Welcome to Bray."

Sylar took her hand slowly, and she tried to ignore the heat that their touch ignited in her. "Hey, I'm-"

"Gabriel," she finished for him, "I got that."

Sylar nodded and looked around the kitchen, his eyes taking in the first floor with an odd glint. Jane watched as he did so, and began to notice his general appearance. His clothes looked good on him, as much as clothes like that could, but he seemed to not suit them, like he was wearing some alien skin.

Jane looked up at his glasses, and watched as they catch the lamp light and reflected her awed look.

_He's trying to supress something_, Jane concluded as she watched him fiddle with the fabric of his pants, _he's concelaing some element of-_

Sylar turned to look back at Jane, and his sharp eyes had Jane biting her lip like a child caught doing something bad.

"Why, uh," Jane looked down at his duffle bag, a welcome alternative from his divining eyes, "why are you in Bray?"

"I wanted to get away." Sylar replied quickly.

Jane nodded, "Where are you from originally?"

"New York."

She felt my heart leap in her chest, the mention of the city made Nathan Petrelli's face flash in her mind. Now was Jane's chance to show she wasn't just some ignorant country girl that went frantic over some city newcomer.

"Like where that Senator was just killed!"

Sylar nodded, his eyes observing her. "Yeah. It's getting pretty hectic up there."

Each word Sylar says seems so precise, as if he knows every word he's going to say, and it continues to lead Jane down to thoughts of what he's really like without his facade. She smiled encouragingly, trying to get him to speak a little more, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Sylar continued to watch Jane as she continued to watch him, and they both became stuck in the awkward silence that descended them. The silence is painful, but Jane can't stop trying to imagine what Sylar would look like without his glasses to think up a good topic of conversation.

"Do you, uh, want to see your room, maybe?" She finally offered.

Sylar's gaze grew intense, and it had Jane shifting under the heat from his orbs. She bit her lip again and waited for an answer.

"How old are you?" Sylar asked, his hands stuffing themselves into his deep beige pockets. Jane watched the fidgeting bulges a few moments before she raised her eyes to meet his. It was then she really noticed how tall he is.

"Eighteen," Jane responded.

Sylar seemed to stifle a groan as his head turned to look out the window at the fading light.

"Sure," he said in a defeated voice. "Show me the way."

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

The room was the one furthest down the long hall, its brown door always locked for privacy. As Sylar fished around for his key, Jane pointed to the door closest to his and identified it as hers. He didn't even look, but instead yanked his key out a little faster then necessary.

As his door swung open, Jane peered in first to check everything was in order. The king sized bed was made, the blue sheets spread smoothly across the matress. The bedside table's lamp was off though, and so she rushed in to turn it on as Sylar moved in her wake.

Jane bent down onto her knees and lifted the duster circling the edge of the bed. From her position I can see the disconnected cord, and with a small sigh, she fell onto her stomach and began to crawl over to the awkwardly placed outlet.

"What are you doing," Gabriel asked from somewhere in the room, and Jane identified what she thought was annoyance in his voice.

"Sorry!" she grunted, finally reaching the power source. "I'm just about done."

She got the cord into the wall, and could see the light illuminate the room. With a few more grunts, Jane managed to sneak back out from under the bed. As she raised herself up and dusted off her clothes, Sylar cleared his throat.

He was sitting on a chair just behind Jane, sandwitched in between the bed and the window. His legs were crossed imperiously, and his hands were on each arm of the chair, his fingers running against the soft fabric absent mindedly. As Jane observed him, she felt a wave of heat gush through her stomach, and felt her cheeks burn. Sylar watched her intently, his eyes never straying from hers.

"You like?" she asked, gesturing to the room with a trembling hand.

"Very nice," Sylar replied in a voice like velvet as he rested his deep brown eyes continually on hers.

"How long will you be staying?" she asked, her bare feet playing with the threads on the carpet.

"As long as I want." says Sylar, his eyes still on on hers, the heat growing. "So who knows."

"You'll like it here," Jane enthused. "I mean, Bray is small, but there a few fun things."

His smile was the same as always as one of his eyesbrows began to rise. "Like what?"

"Er... The fair. That's coming in a few weeks. And.. um... other... things." Jane says lamely, grimacing slightly as Sylar slowly nodded his head.

"You might just have to show me around." he said in a deep voice.

Jane froze, her eyes fluttering as she continued to look at him. "I'd love to." she said back in a whisper.

Sylar looked towards the door, his eyes dimming as he speaks, "I should be getting some sleep now."

"What?" Jane croaked, blinking rapidly and shaking her head.

She had been momentarily lost to day dreams of spending time with Sylar. She could just see them both laughing at some silly joke, wrapping up on the couch to watch a romanticmovie, speaking passionatly about their feelings for one another. Her mind dwelling on an image of the pair tangled together in a hot embrace, Sylar's lips possessing Jae's as she caved agianst his will...

"Sleep is always good." Jane gasped, her hands fidgeting at her sides. "Goodnight, Gabriel."

"Goodnight, Jane," his voice replied in a dark tone, his eyes following her retreating form.

She quickly shut the door behind her and leant against it. Her whole body then began to shake.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane Hart sat on the couch once more, her eyes staring at the TV but her mind not really absorbing the show on offer. She was really going over what had just happened only an hour previous.

She had thought it impossible for any man to have such an effect on her. It was almost spellbounding, the way she had reacted to his presence. And that voice. It had such conviction, and all his words took on so many tones and meanings, that Jane felt herself going down long spirals just trying to decipher them.

She had reheated her pasta, and now sat hugging the bowl as her eyes glazed over.

The truth of the matter was, that Sylar, both the one she had just met today, and the one in her dreams, had awoken feelings she never felt for a man before.

She felt trust, love, lust, loyalty, passion... Her whole life up to that point now seemed barren and pointless compared to what it could be. Sylar just seemed to shoot out of no where and give Jane something to aspire to, something to crave.

Jane ran a hand over her face and, for what seemed like the millionth time, shook her head as if to clear it of water.

"You're still up?" asked a dark figure from the kitchen.

Jane started and looked around her, her heart beating fast and furious as she peered into the shadow that was the kitchen. She could already tell it was Sylar, his presence setting off her senses almost automatically, but she still felt afraid.

"Who-Who is it?' she asked in a trembling voice, and that's when Sylar, his own bowl of pasta in his hands, stepped out of the dark. His smile was wide and dangerous, that of a predator to anyone else. But Jane smiled as if she saw an angel.

"Oh," she said in a long sigh. "Its you, Gabriel. That's the second time today that you've scared me."

"I'm not doing very well, am I?" Sylar laughed, and he began to move towards her before stopping himself. His brow creased as he looked upon Jane's trusting face.

_Can I trust myself to sit next to her? She has no power to use against me – she's meerly innocent. Too innocent to even sense a murdering bastard like myself..._

"Aren't you going to sit down?" Jane asked, moving over slightly to give Sylar room on the already spacious couch.

Her lips were pouted, and her body was still dressed in that figure revealing number from earlier.

"Thanks," Sylar smiled, moving in and placing himself next to Jane. "I just didn't know-"

"You're always welcome to do what you want in this house," Jane said kindly, smiling as she searched for the remote. Her smooth pretty brow creasing as her hand dug deeper and deeper down into the couch's cusions.

Sylar spotted it on the far chair, and with a smilpe finger twitch, had it in his hand before Jane could even spot the movement.

"Looking for this?" he asked, offering up the remote, and Jane beamed at him.

"I'd loose my head if it wasn't screwed on," Jane giggled, taking it from him.

Sylar couldn't even smile as all the gaping, life ending wounds he had caused flashed in hid mind's eye. He looked to Jane and it didn't take much imagination to see her body limp, her face pale and frozen in shock, with the top of her head just an empty cavern where blood seeped out.

"I should..." he began, his heart beating hard in his chest as he looked down at her small curled figure.

"Oh," Jane gasped, reaching up and grasping to his hand. "Don't. We'll watch what you like, I promise I won't make you watch Project Runway or anything. I'm so lonely, I just want some company."

Sylar looked down to where her small hand held to his rough one, her body warmth reaching out to him like big strong arms. He wanted to say no, he should have said no, but the man in him, not the monster, won over and he settled back down. This time a little closer to Jane.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Jane asked as Sylar channel surfed. "The bed's not bad or anything, is it?"

"No, no," Sylar sighed, his hand running across the frame of his glasses. "I just couldn't rest."

"I know what you mean." Jane said in her small voice.

Sylar's eyes twitched over at her, and he saw that her eyes had wandered from the screen too.

"Do you?" Sylar asked, his whole body seeming to hum. "Can't you rest either?"

"I haven't been able to rest for a very long time." Jane relpied, her voice quiet as her light brown eyes searched Sylar's face.

Sylar saw the heat in her eyes, the trust and longing that had her brown eyes glowing. How could he live with himself if, only hours after meeting her, he had kissed her? It was ridiculous that he should even be thinking about it! He had tried to kill girls younger then her, and felt no remorse what so ever. Why should someone like Jane bring him out of his cold calculating shell so fast?

And this was partially her fault too. There she was, offering up trust and warmth, all wrapped up in a young, beautiful package. Sylar's heart was beating faster then it had ever done, and he tried to shut it off, tried to will it not to respond.

"Stop," he whispered to Jane as she leaned forward even more. She seemed unable to hear him as she continued to move toward him, her lips parting slowly. Jane's scent of jasmine overwhelmed Sylar and he almost felt like grabbing the girl and running off into his bedroom with her where he could keep her his and safe forever.

_I can't._

"Jane," Sylar said more firmly, his hands grasping her shoulders. "What are you do-"

The backdoor squeaked open, and Sylar and Jane both dived down onto the couch. Sylar's brow was creased, and his eyes were still glaring hard at Jane, but this new interruption had annoyance burning his veins. What had he expected to happen? He was about to stop Jane's foolishness... wasn't he?

"Its my sister," Jane hissed to him as the floorboards somewhere nearby squeaked under foot. "She's only just getting home."

"Who care-" Sylar began, but then he cut himself off. He wanted her to go away.

"Stay down, Gabriel," Jane muttered, and Sylar's anger was forgotten as he heard his name on her tongue. She had said it before, but it took on a whole new light with these new feelings. But, before he could even get to grips on what he was feeling, Jane was springing up from the couch.

"God, Sasha," said Jane, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why are you out so late? I lie to mom, and then you do this!"

"Why," says another female voice. It could have been Jane's voice, but where Jane's was mature, and had conviction to back it up, this voice, presumably Sasha Hart's, was higher and had a more flighty tone to it that automatically set Sylar off. The voice carried on, "Is she home?"

"No," Jane admitted, her conviction wavering. "But she was for all you know, and you're still late."

"God, Jane," Sasha groaned, "Why so edgy?"

Jane's eyes flashed to Sylar, and he gave her an 'are you daft' look.

"Because," Jane continued, acting like she hadn't just given the couch a panicked look, "if mom found out you were sneaking out with all kinds of guys and I was the one covering up for you – I'd get grounded."

Sasha gave a derisive laugh, "Yeah, like you have a social life anyway."

Jane's face began to heat up, and Sylar looked away. He shouldn't have even been there, he should have left Jane to wait for her sister in peace. He knew Jane was attracted to him, knew the moment their faces brushed on the kitchen floor. But he had told himself it was nothing but teenage hormones, and his reaction was nothing if not involuntary.

So why was he still on that couch, waiting for Jane to collect herself and come back to join him?

"I should be getting off to bed," Jane whispered once her sister's bedroom door was slammed.

Sylar blinked and sat up, his eyes taking in her now clear and lucid expression. It appeared that her sister's jibe had shocked her back to reality, and alerted her to the fact that maybe Sylar wasn't the best guy to be with.

He could only hope she was now sensing his danger, his 'don't come near' aura.

But Jane just wanted to run away and hide, deeply embarassed that Sylar had heard Sasha make fun of her. She couldn't bare it that Sylar had pushed her away before, and now that he knew she didn't do anything but eat meals alone and scold her sister, he must see her as some loner.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel," she husked, knuckling at her right eye. "I'm – I'm such a loser."

Jane then turned and scurried past the couch. Sylar stared out into oblivion while his mind tried to deal with the alien feeling of disappointment.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

That night, Jane and Sylar both settle into their dreams with apprehension. Jane, in her bed, hugged close to her pillow as she struggled around in her duvet. And Sylar, his face contorted in worry, fidgeted constantly as he mumbled out.

The first parts of their dreams went ahead as usual, Jane crying out and trying to grab at Noah Bennet as he strangles her. And Sylar shwoing up, just in the nick of time, to save her with abilities fueled by her obvious devotion and blind trust.

But this time, as Sylar heaves the girl to her feet and brings her in close, his hand reaches out and touches the girl's cheek. The first contact made! And as he fingers the soft skin, her head tilts up.

"Gabriel?" Jane asks him.

Sylar freezes and stares down at her, his eyes taking in her wide brown eyes and soft, flowing brown hair. He smiles despite himself and lets his hand wander through her soft strands.

"Yes," Sylar replies, his eyes turning hot as Jane smiles in recognition. "Its me. Its your Gabriel."

He's different in this dream, he wears his black ensemble like always, instead of the geeky outfit, and his glasses no longer sheild his eyes from Jane's view. She clings tight to him, as she reaches one small hand up and takes off a black cap Sylar wasn't aware he was wearing.

Jane's eyes grow even wider as they shine up at him. She feels her heart quicken in joy at Sylar's appearance. She's elated that its Sylar holding her. That it's been Sylar all along, saving her night after night, but concealing his true identity from her. Its peace around them as Jane gazes upon Sylar with totaly faith, and Sylar stares back with unabaiting devotion.

All of a sudden there are loud noises, like an advancing mob, coming from everywhere, and no matter where Sylar and Jane look, nothing appears.

Sylar momentarily wants to throw Jane off, because somewhere in him he knows its all his fault that the mob is after them. He knows that if he lets Jane go, and she slips from his grasp, she'll be safe and untouchable forever.

"I don't want you to be afraid." Sylar whispers to her, his forehead leaning against her own and his hot breath brushing against her face. She seems to have sense his intentions, because she wraps both her arms around his middle and squeezes tight.

"I'll never leave you," she vows with such conviction it has Sylar abandonning all hope of ever convincing her otherwise.

Its then that he too wraps his arms around Jane, and holds her tight against him. The scene around them dims, but as they hold to another, the light never actually fades. The sounds grow louder, but Jane can only hear Sylar's heartbeat aginst her ear.

Its confirmation he's still alive.


	4. Falling for You

_I'm doing to explain my heart  
to you now  
I've got so much on my mind it's tearing me apart  
These empty feelings question me  
of who I think I've become  
Mind is ticking life away  
Asking if you are the one  
Faling for you  
Falling for you  
I fell for you_

-Falling for You by Taking Back Sunday

"Oh, Gabriel!" Susan giggled, her hands clutching to her stomach as she laughed continuosly.

Sylar bent over, smiled and squinted his eyes, the result looking quite obscure; but Susan Hart was too busy overreacting to notice. Sylar straightened up, and turned his back on her to put away the milk. His smile dropping from his face at the same moment -it hadn't been that funny.

"Something funny?" called a small voice, and Sylar felt his whole body tightening up as he recognised the sound.

Jane was walking into the kitchen wearing a brown skirt and a light red top, her curves hugged to perfection once more as she smiled sweetly. Sylar felt his breath catch as her eyes caught his.

"Morning," Jane said in a whisper, and the tone of it had Sylar thinking back to his dream from the night previous.

"Yes," gasped Susan, her hand resting against Sylar's shoulder. "Gabriel just said the funniest joke!"

The overselling had Sylar grimacing off into a far corner, and the fact the woman was now leaning quite heavily upon his shoulder made Sylar feel uncomfortable. He wasn't a people person at the best time. Jane gave a bland smile as she waited for her mother to stop fauning over Sylar and get to the point.

"Say it, Gabriel," Susan prompted, jabbing him in the side.

Sylar gave a flicker of a smile and shook his head. "No." he stated simply.

"Burrr," Susan complained, giving Sylar another jab. "Ok," she then said to Jane, who had been trying to hide a smile at Sylar's obvious discomfort, "What did the Buddhist say to the hotdog vendour?"

Jane shrugged, her smile becoming fixed as Susan dragged out the moments until she told.

"I'll have one with everything," Susan guffawed, doubling over with new found gaity.

"Oh," Jane giggled, looking over to Sylar. "Nice one."

Sylar shurgged helplessly and rolled his eyes, which had Jane laughing hard. Her mother stepped between the pair, cutting off their communication, to pester Sylar for more of his 'hilarious' jokes.

Sylar watched powerlessly as Jane sauntered away to the backdoor, where her figure was suddenly consumed by the extreme sun of that Saturday.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane was trying, and failing, to start up her pick up. She sat behind the wheel turning the key figurously only to have the engine splutter for a few seconds, then die. Her lion of yesterday had somehow become a dead kitten.

"Freaking hell!" Jane cursed, pushing against the steering wheel in anger. "You stupid peice of junk!"

"Oh, come now," said Gabriel, suddenly appearing at her window like he'd always been there. "Don't be so mean."

Jane gave him a droll stare as she tried the ignition again. "Aren't you suddenly the jokester."

"That never works," Sylar revealed to her, leaning in the open window and smiling at her. Her cab smelt just like her; and the overpowering jasmine had Sylar's senses clouded as he stared at Jane.

He didn't even realize she was asking a question until she repeated it.

"Then what does work, Gabriel?"

Sylar winked at her, drew out from the window, and moved to the front of the car. His eyebrows levelled out and he gave her a peircing gaze that had Jane strapped to the seat with a non-existant seatbelt. He popped the hood and looked around at the black equipment. The car needed an obvious fix up, but that wasn't the main problem.

Sylar placed his hand onto the radiator and closed his eyes. His radiation power was his least used, and therefore his least controlled, but he felt confident enough to jump start Jane's rusted old Ford. He gave it a pulse, and suddenly the car was roaring and screaming up at him.

Sylar slammed down the hood and saw Jane smiling happily, hitting the reverberating wheel in tune to some music on the radio. She waved him over, and Sylar happily obeyed, coming back to her window.

"You busy?" Jane called casually, her eyes fixed on Sylar as she bounced around in the driver's seat.

"What would I be doing?" Sylar replied, cocking an eyebrow as Jane smile brightened.

She leant away from Sylar and pushed open the passenger seat door. She indicated to it as her dark pink lips spread across her white teeth in a tempting smile. Sylar's mind was suddenly bombarded with thoughts of what he could do to those eagar and innocent lips.

"Come on in." Jane said with a smile, her hand patting the brown leather seat next to her.

_That could be taken so many ways_, Sylar thought with a wicked grin as he took up the offer.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"I can't beleive you cook so much," Sylar said as he watched Jane fling more food into the cart. He leant against the handlebars, pushing it forward as he followed in Jane's wake.

Jane put in some pasta sauce as she turned to look at him, "Don't you cook your own food?"

Sylar shook his head, "I mainly eat what ever's on offer."

"How sad." Jane sighed, smiling at him.

Sylar pretended to swell indignantly. "What? Its not sad! I'm a young bachelor - it's expected of me."

Jane gave him a more meaningful smile as they carried on. "Do you always do what's expected of you?"

"Not as much as you'd think," Sylar replied, his hand idly looking through the assorted goods for something he could make into his own food.

"I'm going to starve," he stated simply, having looked over it all and found naught.

"Oh come on," Jane sighed, rolling her eyes and leading him out of the aisle. "We'll go to the junkfood aisle."

The small general store wasn't very equipped, and yet everyone in town appeared to be crowding in it, all seemingly satisfied with the bare essentials. Sylar could remember his New York days, and the gigantic Costco that offered everything he could have ever wanted.

Hopefully he would be able to return to New York one day, and that would be the first place on his list to visit.

Jane regailed Sylar with tales of her own food expicades, the only adventures she seemed to have. Sylar listened politely to tales about undercooked indian cuisine, and overcooked asian noodles; but as her face brightened happily, Sylar couldn't help but notice the undercurrent of sadness that brushed against her features.

Jane Hart seemed just as eagar to leave the dead end town as he was.

_But she wouldn't last out there,_ Sylar thought sadly as she walked close by him, _She's too vulnerable, her trust in me proves it_.

They eventually made it to the check out where Sylar was made to smile polietely and give 'hello's to every inquiring Tom, Dick and Harry. Jane was no help, her head turning away to snicker everytime Sylar jutted his jaw out in annoyance.

"You'd think I was a celebrity." Sylar said to her dryly as they unloaded their things onto the conveyer belt.

"A New Yorker is just about as interesting as it's gotten around here since the Starbucks was built three years ago."

"There's a Strabucks here?!" Sylar cheered, his teeth showing in the smile he gave her.

Jane's heart beat fast as she nodded. He was too beautiful for small Bray. For her.

"Hey, Jane," said the checkout boy neither of them had noticed.

Jane's hand paused over the frozen peas as she turned to look at the boy. Sylar stood up straighter, his eyes narrowing in on the boy. He was tall and lanky, his red hair falling over his face in a greasy curtain. He looked like a runt as he smiled widely at Jane.

"Hey, Henry," Jane smiled back. "I didn't know you worked Saturdays."

"Yeah," Henry nodded, his eyes flicking nervously to Sylar who hadn't moved once since he had spoken. "I got premoted so, uh, I got transfered."

"Oh," Jane suddenly said, turning to look back at Sylar. "I should have said something. This is Gabriel, he's in town for a bit and decided to stay with us."

_Finally_, thought Sylar as the boy dropped his eyes from his dark face, _a capable human being. __He__ knows I'm dangerous! _

"Are you ok, Henry?" Jane asked, about to reach over the tortellini to touch the boy.

Sylar felt his temper rise as his eyes took on a deadly sheen. Henry glanced up at him, spotted the killer look, and cowered away from Jane.

"I'm just not feeling good, Jane," Henry said in a rushed voice. "It's nothing."

"Oh," Jane said, straightening back up. "Ok."

Jane glanced at Sylar to see him smiling down at her. She smiled sweetly back and turned around. She knew it was Sylar's presence that had Henry freaked, because she too could feel the dangerous pulses coming off his dark person.

_So why aren't I running scared like Henry? Why do I feel more safe then ever as I stand so close to the source of evil that's practically throwing knives through the air?_

"I'll see you around, Henry," Jane promised, smiling brightly as Sylar began to pick up the groceries for her.

Henry didn't reply, but instead busied himself with the next customer's goods.

_That's right, little boy,_ thought Sylar with a satisfied smirk. _You stay away from her-_

_Oh god._

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"How come you were so mean to Henry?" Jane asked as she handed another bag laden with groceries up to Sylar, who was standing in the back of her truck.

Sylar's face hardened as he took the bag and loaded it into one of the waiting plastic crates. "I don't know what you could mean."

"Yes, you do," Jane said, unperturbed. "You are many things, Gabriel. Thick isn't one of them."

Sylar turned to her with a one sided smile, his eyes looking down at her with an odd shine. He was giving off the bad vibes again, but Jane wasn't threatened as she carried on.

"You scared the shit out of him, Gabriel," Jane insisted, her hands on her hips.

"How could I?" Sylar asked, feigning an innocence neither of them believed.

"Gabriel, you scare people. You know you do."

Sylar studied her face, and even though she was telling him off, she didn't seem angry in anyway.

"But I don't scare you."

Jane scoffed. "You should be so lucky."

_You__ should be so lucky, little girl_, Sylar thought as Jane relaxed and smiled.

"I just want to know what you did," she explained. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"Like me?" Sylar asked, his eyes glinting.

Jane faultered and looked down at his shoes. How could she explain to him that she dreamt about him? How could she explain that she suddenly felt more alive then she ever had before? How could she describe the way his scary vibes drew her in rather then pushed her out?

"I don't know what to say," Jane whispered truthfully, her eyes darting up to his face before scurrying back down again. "It sounds so stupid to me, it would sound ridiculous to you."

"Jane," Sylar said, suddenly sitting down so his feet dangled over the edge of the truck. Jane looked sideways at his relaxed figure and moved toward him, her eyes wary but heated as she came within feet of his body.

"Yes," she inquired, her eyes looking up into his serious face, his eyebrows were dropped low over his glinting dark eyes and his glasses flashed in the sun as he shook his head.

"You need to stop," he said. "I know what you're thinking, and if you keep going down that road, you might end up somewhere you don't want to be."

Jane's brow creased as she stared at him. How could she not want him?

"How do you know I don't want the end result." she asked. "You don't know what it's like-"

"You don't know me as much as you think you do," Sylar muttered, his hand reaching towards her before dropping down on his knee. "You can't know me as much as you want to."

"Gabriel," Jane whispered, and he closed his eyes at the sound of his name. "You underestimate my resiliance."

Sylar sighed, and raised his head, meeting Jane's large eyes. "I don't think I do."

Jane swallowed down the hurt that bubbled up in her throat. It felt like acid coursing through her chest, but the feeling wasn't unfamiliar to her. She had felt it when she first found out that he father had left, and then again when she fond out her colledge fund was being spent to keep the bills paid, and this...

"Can we at least stay friends?" Jane asked, trying her best to cling to all that Sylar was – strong, free, convicted, experienced.

Sylar breathed slowly through his nose and nodded, watching as Jane dropped her head and sniffed.

"But you need to understand that when I leave, I leave." Sylar said. "You don't understand, I know, but the world out there isn't all that great, and people you may think now are wonderful, actually turn out to be bastards."

Jane swallowed down the lump in her throat and bravely rose her eyes to meet Sylar's. This time she couldn't feel any anger or reclusion coming off him, this time all she saw was a sad Sylar, watching Jane wilt.

"You're right," she whispered dropping her eyes. "I don't understand. And the way things are going, I never will."

"Sometimes it's better Jane," Sylar whispered, putting his hand under her chin so that he could raise her face to meet his. "Sometimes holding on to the maybes is safer then actually doing anything about it."

Jane closed her eyes, and Sylar watched in pain as her eyelashes damped. He wanted to hold her, to wrap her in his arms like he had done in his dream. But he knew life; it was cold and hard - nothing that Jane Hart was. He'd leave her soon, and she'd be better for it.

_No matter how much I think it will hurt me_, Sylar finished, smiling kindly as Jane knuckled her tears away.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

The sun was setting in a purle sky that evening as Jane and Sylar pulled into the driveway. Jane pulled the gears down and then switched off the engine before grabbing up her Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade and leaning back in her seat.

"Why aren't we going inside," Sylar asked, looking around at Jane as shut her eyes.

"You can if you want," she muttered, sipping on her Strabucks straw. "But I'm not ready just yet; Mom and Sasha are in there."

"Ah," Sylar said, leaning back also and putting his feet up on the dashboard. He felt so relaxed in the small, albeit hot, car with Jane. The whole world might have just slipped away, the calm replacing every other emotion in him.

"Yeah, and I'm just not ready to cope with it all just yet." Jane explained.

They rested in silence for some time, both watching the inside of their eyelids as they tried to escpae back to the dreamland where they were actually together. Occasionally, Sylar peeked through his eyelashes to see Jane's face crumpled in thougt or anger. Jane's drink had disappeared, the ice had melted, and that was also drunk, by the time they spoke once more.

"I wish I was special," Jane muttered.

The sentance hung heavy in the air, like an oversize tree ornament, laden with wishes and meaning. Jane opened her eyes and looked over at Sylar. He sat there, eyes open and glinting, staring out the windsheild.

"No, you don't, Jane," he replied after some time.

Jane furrowed her brow and continued to stare at Sylar. "Yes, I do. Maybe not in the way you're special - but in my own way."

"You are special in your own way," Sylar confirmed, now turning to look at Jane. "You just don't know it."

"That's annoying." Jane grumbled.

She turned and met Syalr's eyes with a look of equal seriousness. Both their brows had dropped and met together in a worried look, their eyes hard and glinting as they thought.

To Sylar, Jane was special, in so many more ways then he could ever count. For one, she made him feel human. In the short space of time he'd spent with her, he felt more accepted and at ease then ever. And second; the simple fact that she could look into his eyes with warmth and compassion spoke volumes about how very special she was. None of this changed the fact he couldn't have her, in fact these qualities nailed the coffin as far as starting a relationship went.

"I wish I could show you how special you really are, Jane," Sylar whispered.

Jane held his gaze until he was forced to look away. "That makes both of us," she muttered.

"Shall we get to unpacking? I don't think the milk appreciates this weather," Sylar asked lightly, not waiting for a reply as he threw open the passenger door and jumped out.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane lugged the heavy bags of groceries into the house after Sylar. She was, quite obviously, not his equal in strength in any way, and therefore only held four compared to his six.

"About time you got back," said someone from the couch, and Jane looked over to see her sister lounging in a short denim skirt and light pink wifebeater that showed a purple bra beneath it. She looked like an extra from a dirty movie as she lazily rubbed her legs together. "What took you so long?"

"Things," Jane replied hotly as she heaved the grocieries. "You could help, y'know."

"Yeah," sighed Sasha. "But, like, I don't want to."

Sylar walked over to Jane and took hold of the groceries for her. Jane smiled her appreciation as he stalked off to the kitchen, to get away from Sasha if for no other reason. Jane smoothed out her own skirt that stopped a couple of inches above her knees, and observed her hair in the mirror.

"You'll never look good," Sasha said evilly. "All that primping is in vain."

Sylar, who was unpacking the oranges, squeezed one so hard it exploded in his hand. Sylar watched in panic as the orange juice covered practically everything. And as the two twins continued to harp on one anther, he tried desperatly to mop it all up without being noticed.

"Do you even know what vain means?" Jane snapped, turning around to face her sister.

"Oh, give it a rest, Eistein." Sasha laughed, sitting up straight and meeting Jane's furoscious gaze. "All those brains won't get you anywhere. Its not like you'll be going to colledge or anything."

As she crowed laughter, Sylar stood stock still in the kitchen. The rest of the oranges began to hum and rise into the air. Sylar grabbed at them in a mad dash, and at the same time tried to get his mood in check.

Seeing as his gifts were newly returned to him, he was practically still in infancy. He felt like a regular Peter Petrelli as he flushed red and leaped high into the air to catch one befoe it slipped behind the fridge.

"What's your boyfriend doing?" Sasha asked, and both she and Jane turned to see Sylar hugging tight to fifteen or so oranges.

Sylar's nostrils flared, but he breathed deep and said in a slow voice, "I'm not her boyfriend."

"Ha!" Sasha called, looking over gloatingly at Jane. "Yeah, no friggin' duh. See, Jane! Brains aren't everything."

Sylar looked over at Jane and saw that her cheeks had taken on the color of a cherry as she fidgeted her nervous hands.

"Jane-" Sylar began, but was stopped by Susan Hart clip clopping down the stairs in mules and a flowing shawl drifting dangerously near her feet.

"Is my Sasha home?" she called, smiling brightly as Sasha gave an angel's smie that left Sylar blinking

_I'm not even that good,_ Sylar thought as Sasha bounded off the couch and ran up to her mom.

"Mommy!" Sasha cooed, wrapping her arms around her mother.

"Oh, I missed you!" Susan exclaimed, drawing out of the hug to brush Sasha's long golden brown ringlets from her face. "Who knew the swim team called meetings in the middle of Saturdays."

"I knew it was a commitment going in, mom," Sasha said with a wistful sigh. "But I'm prepared to give it my all."

Susan continued to gush over Sasha as Jane slowly simmered in her own hateful jealousy. Sasha didn't deserve any of that attention – none of it. But since she was the one who took after their dad the most, her mother fauned over the girl. It was really Jane who held them all together, but Jane was too good hearted to actually point this out. Instead, she fumed down at the floor.

Sylar watched all this conspire, and suddenly felt a sticky wet spot grow across his chest. Looking down, Sylar spotted with an oath that three of the oranges he had been holding had liquified onto his t-shirt.

"Jane," Susan said in a sharp voice. "Were you listening to me?"

Jane blinked up at her mother, her brow furrowing, "Pardon?"

"Burrr," Her mother complained, giving Sasha the 'your sister is impossible' look. "You should be more committed, Jane. Like your sister."

"I was committed to going to colledge, to furthering my education," Jane said, her arms tightening painfully across her full chest.

Sasha tutted her sister, and shaking her head sadly, she spoke as if to a child, "Jane, I practiced so hard for swimming and became so good – that the swim team let me on free of charge, like a scholarship! Maybe, you just aren't smart enough for colledge."

Jane swelled to capacity, and her mouth workeing tirelessly to try and form the words that could describe her indignity and fury. But nothing could come out. Her eyes heated up as she gazed at her mother and sister, standing so close, bound by their own ignorances.

"Excuse me," she choked, running past them to get to the stairs. "I have to..."

Sasha made a whimpering noise that could have been sympathy if Sylar didn't know better.

"My boy," Susan called suddenly, looking at Sylar with frigtened eyes. "What's wrong?"

The two girls froze and paled as Sylar's eyebrows levelled calmly, and his lips curled back to form a pleasant, if not completely evil, smile. His hard, glinting eyes took in Susan and Sasha with frightening coldness.

"Nothing at all," he said in a dark voice that had the oranges in his hands trembling again. "Excuse me."

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Sylar could hear music playing through Jane's door as he walked up to it. He placed a hand against the door, as if to steady himself, and began to tune into his enhanced hearing ability so he could try and distinguish Jane's voice from the music.

First, Sylar identified her heart beat. It was rushed again from emotion, and Sylar wished that there was someway he could calm down the erradic beat. Next he could hear her voice whispering softly to the song, occasionally breaking with a sob as she rustled under what sounded like a blanket.

Sylar stole another moment, then knocked.

"Who is it?"

"Gabriel." Sylar answered, listening carefully as she sniffled.

"Come in."

Sylar, without thinking about it, unlocked the door telekenetically as he enterred. Jane, who was only just remberring the fact she had locked it, looked up with a puzzled expression, as Sylar towered in her doorway.

"I though I locked that," she sniffled, making Sylar hesitate slightly.

"Nope. Wasn't locked." Sylar replied quickly, moving into the room and closing the door behind him.

"God, I could have sworn I had..." she said, turning her face away from Sylar and towards her computer where iTunes was up. "I can turn it off... Only, it helps me calm down."

"Not if it's helping you calm down," Sylar replied kindly.

Her room was nicely decorated - the walls covered with bookshelves that were packed with different books, journals and stationary, her bed against the far wall raised on large, old looking books that brought it up level with the window. Around the window grew tall ivory from the plant ladder that ended along side it, and it gave the effect of framing the window's view. Jane was sitting on her bed, her body wrapped up in a big puffy light purple duna.

"Its nice in here," Sylar complimented, sinking into the calm he had felt in the truck as Jane smiled sadly at him.

"Thanks, Gabriel." She mumbled, sniffling again. Her eyes became large and shiny, and Sylar watched in horror as the rims of her eyes turned red and tears threatened to spill over.

Jane looked around, her hands fretting near her orbs, as she lifted the blanket in a panicked rush. The quest under the blanket only produced her teddy bear, and Sylar could already see the tears running rivets down her cheeks.

He spotted the kleenix box near the computer, and with an expertly hidden finger curl, he had the box in his hand quickly. He offered it to a distracted Jane, and she gushed sloppy thank yous as she grabbed several sheets.

"Sit down," she suddenly said, her eyes covered by the white kleenix as her hand gestured wildly about the room.

All for making the situation any less awkward, Sylar chose to sit on the swivelly chair that sat at the desk. As Jane blew into the kleenix, he wheeled over to her, a small smile on his pink lips. Eventually her face peeked out from the duna, reminding Sylar of an eskimo.

"I'm sorry," Jane sniffled as she threw the crumpled tissues into a small bin in the corner. None of them made it in. "I'm never this bad, its just with everything that happened today – with you and everything... I just couldn't handle Sasha digging the knife like that."

Sylar remained silent as Jane laughed in a hard sort of way.

"Still think I'm special," she asked, moving her puffy eyes to take in his form that had scooted closer.

"Yes." Sylar stated, and before she could interrupt he continued. "You didn't rat your sister out."

"I would never do that!" Jane cried, smiling at Sylar like he was clueless. "I never tell on someone I love. That's just dirty."

"You're going to continue to cover for her?"

"I'll cover for her until I die," Jane promised. Her face managed to look dignified even in its flushed and puffy state.

"And you still don't know you're special." Sylar said with a head shake. "Have you ever heard of looking after 'numero uno'?"

"Yes," Jane replied with and eye roll. "But I count people I care for as my 'numero uno's. What good is a life without care or tenderness? And," she then smiled brightly, "I may need to call on my self scarifices one day."

"Ah," Sylar said, nodding and smiling broadly. "I see your plan now. Get her into a deep hole of debt."

Jane tapped her nose then sighed.

"You don't have to be here, you know." Jane said to Sylar, her eyes looking up at him pathetically. "I'm a big girl."

_I know,_ thought Sylar as he watched her form curl up even tighter, _but you're small and innocent enough in my eyes._

"Hey," said Sylar, his hand reaching out and resting on the lump of duna he assumed was Jane's shoulder, "what kind of friend would I be if I left you in this state?"

"Oh, Gabriel," Jane sighed, looking up in to his eyes. "Don't you know..."

Her eyes grew wide, but this time there was heat, not tears, behind the expression. She slowly leaned forward, unable to help it as Sylar's compassion reached out to her. He was such a dark entity, but Jane could see the good in him like a flickering flame taht could explode – and just for her.

Everything he did to try and push her away, the woman in her clung harder to that dream... the one that promised an even darker and passionate Sylar that was all hers.

Sylar saw the intention behind Jane's eyes, and before he could stop himself, his eyes had turned hot and his lips had parted. He focussed on Jane's plump lips as they came in closer towards him. How could he have resisted this long? It was a miracle, really.

As Sylar and Jane came closer, Sylar felt as if a deep passion and longing for the girl was about to be releaved. It was as if the more Sylar had tried to ignore the feelings for her, they ahd urrowed deep. They were so deep rooted in fact, that even the darker part of himself, the power hungry killer, was screaming out for her. It was beating against his reserve and craving for her heart.

Her breath was hot and sweet as it brushed against him, and Sylar couldn't help but reach out his large hand and cup the back of Jane's head with it. She was small in his hands, and Sylar found his heart beating fast and his body heating up at the way she fluttered her eyelids.

But as their lips touched for a fraction of a second, Sylar could feel himself breaking apart at the seems.

The man he caged up coming to Louisianna, the true Sylar in him, suddenly leashed forward and demanded that he wrap Jane up hard and possessively. He could feel his whole body tingle with the fresh nerves and excitement. He was all violence and passion.

And there was Jane, at the possible receiving end of it all.

"Stop, Jane!" Sylar called out, his hands gripped tightly to her shoudlers. "Please!"

Sylar breathed hard in through his nose as he battled with the evil possessiveness bubbling up in his body. Half of him wanted Jane bad, and wanted her right at that moment. It raged and rattled the bars of its cage as it felt Jane's heat seep into its body and fuel its dangerous powers. If he let Jane too close, Sylar's more dangerous side could be let loose. And that was not good.

So the more controlled side of Sylar, the side that actually cared for her, knew no matter what, he couldn't let the darker side loose on her, because if he did, he could loose her forever.

Sylar searched her eyes for any hurt or fear, but she was still far too lost in the moment to understand how close she had come. His fingers tightened in frustration mixed with his suddenly unmet needs.

"What am I doing that repulses you?" Jane asked, cringing slightly under Sylar's new found strength.

"Quite the opposite, Jane," Sylar whispered, his hand dropping down from her body to squeeze tightly on the chair's arm. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

"What..." Jane floundered, her eyes still fixed on Sylar's in the most horrendously trusting way.

"I have never felt this calm, and yet out of control, in my whole life. And it's all your fault, Jane. You need to stop being so nice to me, you need to stop trusting me so impliccably."

"How can I stop," Jane whispered, leaning in once more. "You've changed me, Gabriel."

"But not for the better!" Sylar insisted, shaking her away. "I'm not always Gabriel Grey, the man you think you can see yourself with. Sometimes, I am someone different. A lot of the time actually - I'm rarely the Gabriel you see before you."

Sylar stood up, throwing the chair against the wall without a single thought with his abilities. Jane sat frozen on the bed, staring after him as the door opened before Sylar could even get close to it. For the first time, Jane was scared of him. She sat on the mattress as if glued to it, and watched as Sylar turned around to look at her.

"I don't deserve you, Jane," he said in a level voice. "I'm Sylar, not Gabriel. And Sylar doesn't want you."

Jane's eyes narrowed and she sat up straighter. She wasn't giving up the moment sheer bliss his half second kiss had given her. She knew what she felt, and knew that those feelings couldn't be all for nothing.

"I think he does." she said back, her eyes hard and defiant.

Sylar smiled cryptically back, and clasped the doorhandle. "Maybe you're right, Jane. But Gabriel won't risk you to find out for how long."

The way he said 'long' had Jane shuddering.

Then he turned to leave, closing the door with a final click. She could hear him stalking off toward his room, but couldn't hear him grinding his teeth or bashing his fist into his hand.

_I'll just have to show Sylar – or Gabriel – what I can be. He's not all bad, and the bad in him isn't evil. Jealousy, _Jane decided_, that's what'll do it. Bring out Bad Sylar to prove that he likes me just as much as Good Gabriel does._


	5. Thunder

_**(A/N) Reviews people! Even if you hate it!!  
Pretty please? flutters eyelashes in very TEMPTING way **_

_I tried to read between the lines  
I tried to look in your eyes  
I want a simple explanation  
What I'm feeling inside  
Strike me down with lightning  
Let me feel you in veins  
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain  
I don't want to ever love another  
You'll always be my thunder  
So bring on the rain  
And bring on the thunder  
Oh Baby, bring on the pain  
And listen to the thunder_

-Thunder by Boys Like Girls

Sylar smirked devillishly to himself as he paused halfway up the ivory to catch his breath. In the still tiwlight evening his dark figure clutched to the side of the house faded conspicuously into shadows. He could almost laugh at those first few weeks of staying in Bray – where he sat in his room, petrified of using his powers in case someone caught on. It had taken him a while to realize no one gave a shit about him.

Well, Jane did, that was obvious, but Sylar had done a brillinat job of convincing her he didn't feel the same way.

The thought of Jane had him pausing, his eyes looking up at her bedroom window that revealed that there were no lights on. She was pleasantly ignorant to his doings.

_How sweet_, Sylar thought, stealing himself a smile, _asleep by ten. Probably dressed in a skimpy night gown.._.

Sylar cleared his throat, readjusted the heavy duffle bag that was strung across his back, and continued his acscend.

The ivory was supported by white cross crossing boards over the north-west corner of the house, and made a perfect secret entrance to Sylar's room. All that was nessecary to do was to stick to the shaded side of the house, the side where Jane's widow faced, and then swing over to the other side once you were just below window level. Sylar was always a little nervous that Jane would one day decide to open her window as he was scaling the building, but it hadn't happened yet.

And it didn't happen that night.

Sylar opened his windows with his telekenisis, and slipped in as silent as a light breeze might.

He slipped his duffle bag off and threw it onto his bed as he sighed and stretched out his slightly pent up muscles.

Tonight was shorter then he had wanted, but Sylar knew from the line of rumbling black clouds that were charging towards Bray, that if he didn't get back to the house soon, he might get caught in what was predicted to be the first bad storm of autumn.

He left the window open, loving the way the air prickled with electricity right before storms. He always had, ever since he was a kid, and he still hadn't changed in that respect.

Running a hand through his black har, Sylar approached his bed.

The bag lay expectant and waiting for him, the glossy black material reflecting the room's light. Sylar smiled his anticipation as he took the zipper between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled it down the length of the bag. Gold and silver winked playfully up at him.

_A full, if short, night's robbery._

It was sad that Sylar could only use his power's for petty theft. But he wasn't ready for his real ambitions. He knew that. His powers had been improving, going from infancy to child's play. For instance, the evil in him didn't rage totally out of control, like it had when he and Jane almost kissed. But it was still there, in a majorly dangerous way. The process was painfully slower then Sylar had expected, and everytime he thought he was getting close to having any kind of realy control or power, it all evaded him like sand through fingers.

_Life's so not fair._

He stepped back from the bed now, and walked over to the large armchair. As he sat there, gripping the arms, he let his powers take over. A gold plated bowling trophy lifted out of the bag, and floated to the middle of the room.

Sylar watched it glitter as he spinned it in looping circles that grew larger, and quicker, as it went. Soon it was a gold blur skirting around the ceiling. As it went, Sylar liquified the bowler's head so that the gold suddenly splahed out on the walls. It reminded him of the blood that would spray out from his victim's wounds... Sylar could feel his pulse race, his head swim, and his mouth broaden evilly.

He easily broke the trophy into peices, listening to the satisfying thumps as it hit the carpet in five different places.

Next, Sylar brought out the art supplies that he had stolen from the art shop. Sylar let them float idly over to his chair as he looked out the window. The thunder was rumbling loudly now, and the sounds were close together. It wouldn't be long until Bray was flooded.

As the art book settled in Sylar's lap, the front cover gave way to a promising black page. The box of drawing pencils came and settled on the arm of the chair, the flap opening up and revealing the complex rainbow of colors.

Sylar took a few calming breaths as he removed a led pencil. His heart was thumping happilly, the hunger in him crying out for satisfaction.

It would be the first time Sylar was to attempt to draw the future, and in hindsight it was probably the starting point to the future he was about to paint. He hadn't attempted it before because in order to do so, he would have to slip into the trance that allowed the future to come through. Before he hadn't felt safe enough to be able to let himself loose like that, but after careful detatchment, no one bothered him now.

Sylar gripped the pad of paper and the pencil, shut his eyes tight, and waited...

The evil in him laughed mirthlessly as he began to feed it the knowledge it craved.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"Dear god. This can't be happening."

He was staring down at the A3 paper that had so recently been blank, and now depicted a future that couldn't possibly be true. Life wasn't that cruel.

_Not her._

Sylar felt himself heave off the chair, the pencils falling off him and scattering across the floor. Sylar ran a hand through his dark hair as he stole frightened, frenzied glances at the image. The evil in him throbbed, as if laughing, as it took in the image. It was clear that it wanted that future to happen, and it had the good in him shying away from it even more.

It was a room that consisted only of a kingsized bed with two figures, a man and a woman, and a window that clearly showed the Empire State building. The man was seated, leaning against the headboard of the bed, his eyes shining in the moonlight as he looked out from the picture. His whole demeanor seemed to speak danger, triumph and protectiveness in the simple quirk of his lips. That man was Sylar.

The woman in painting lay flush against Sylar's side. Her hand rested against his bare chest, as her hair was being pulled away from her delicate face by Sylar's hands. She seemed to be laughing sweetly, her large brown eyes on Sylar's face like he was something of great desire. The covers were pulled up around her, suggesting a chill, but you could still see those ever so tempting curves through the dark green bedding. That woman was Jane.

Sylar let out another strangled cry as he ran forward, his eyes coming up only inches away from the painting.

_This couldn't possibly be happening!_

Where Sylar's left hand played through the soft strands of Jane's brown hair, a gold band winked. Sylar squinted, unable to take in the staggering possibility that he would... that she could... that they should...

Suddenly, Sylar could hear a base thumping hard from the street in front of the house.

For nothing else but a distraction, Sylar moved from the painting in jarred movements, and fell to the window sill, slutching hard to white edges as he sucked back the crisp air. His dark eyes searched the dimly lit front yard, and finally found the green monster that was causing the rucous.

It was a box car that shook from the trouble of running. From inside Sylar could hear the overwhelming RnB tunes, and idly wondered who Sasha was tooling around with this week. Turning on his keen hearing, Sylar could hear heated gasps and moans that accompanied a lot of wet smooches.

Sylar had just begun to turn away when he suddenly heard a voice that had his heart stopping.

"Doug," Jane Hart gasped. "Not now."

Doug sighed, and in a deep voice responded, "Why not, we've been going out a month."

This comment was met by silence broken only by the thumping music.

"I can't help it if I don't want to." Jane said in a cold voice.

"And I can't help it if I want to. You're such a tease."

Suddenly, the pair were kissing again, and Jane was mumbling quetly.

"I'm sorry, Doug." Jane sighed. "I can't help it, I'm in such a bad mood."

"Why are you always so hot-cold, Jane?" Doug asked, but Sylar could tell Doug couldn't give a toss for why, seeing as he could hear the boy sucking against Jane.

Jane was silent and the pair continued to kiss.

After awhile, in a hushed voice, she said, "Maybe I'll get over..." She choked momentarily then said in a sad voice, "Just don't break up with me, babe. You never know what will happen."

Sylar's rage was so overwhelming it renderred him momentarily blind. His hands grasped so hard to the window sill that it splintered in his palms. Everything seemed to pulse with this new energy as he tried to battle with the feelings inside.

_My future bride... begging not to be dumped... by a randy youth... who listens to ghetto music... While I stay locked up in this... self built cage... thinking her too fragile... thinking myself not good enough... but if she's willing to sell herself off..._

Every single impure thought, every ounce of lust, every bit of love in Sylar's heart, fed his powers past their point, and Sylar malisciously focussed his eyes on the bonnet of the car. Smiling visciously, he let his radio-active energy heat up the probably very expensive gear.

As the kissing inside intensified, so did Sylar's powers, and suddenly the front of the car was on fire.

"Wholy Fuck!" Doug was screaming as he threw open his door. "My friggen' car!"

Jane's door sprang open too, and Sylar watched with satisfaction as she stared with wide eyes at the quickly consuming fire. She was wearing a light blue dress that ran down her curved body, and her arms were wrapped in a dark blue sweater.

"Jane!" Doug cried out, his hands ripping though his har. "Get some friggen' water or something!"

Jane stared at her new beau like she was just realizing he was there, blinked a few times into clairty, and then nodded quickly.

She ran off to the side of the house, her eyes seemingly lost in their own thoughts. She disappeared from Sylar's view point for a few moments before popping up again with a hose on full blast in her hands.

She handed it to an urgent Doug, then stood off to the side, her arms wrapped around her cold and shaking body. From where Sylar was, he could tell she had managed to get doused by the hose water. How he wanted to wrap her up, warm her cold body with feverish kisses.

Before Sylar could pull away back into the house, Jane's face turned up towards his window. Sylar felt his whole body catch light as her brown eyes held him in position with a knowledgable sheen. Sylar quirked an evil simle at her, then slid away from her view. His eyes rested on the painting once more. Sylar stood standing there for quite some time.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane was helping a bemused Doug in through the front door as Sylar was hopping down off the bottom step. Her eyes flashed in his direction, then flicked off him with an air of anger. Not that Sylar cared, he was still riding off the rush of power, and being so close to Jane after so long was doing things to him. Her anger serving only to increase his feelings.

"Tough break," Sylar said to Doug, "I saw the car."

"Car," squeaked Doug as Jane lowered him onto a chair around the dining table. "It's a wreck!"

"Ah," Sylar said, giving Doug what could have been a comforting punch in the arm if he didn't hate the boy's guts. "You'll survive."

_Maybe._

"I'm thirsty," Doug stated.

Jane who had been hovering worredly near the two men, snapped to attention and walked towards the kitchen. Sylar stood up straight, his eyes fixed on her still wet form hotly.

"Let me help you," he said in a smooth voice.

"That's not really nessecary," Jane gasped, moving quicker now.

By the time Sylar reached the kitchen, Jane was already in the fridge, stubbornly not looking at him. He moved up behind her, and as she burried her head deep in the shining whit space, he watched her body turn to gooseflesh.

"Here," Sylar said kindly, taking off his black jumper and handing it to Jane. "You must be freezing. I saw that hose get you."

Jane drew out of the fridge with a carton of strawberry-kiwi juice in her hand. Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him, as if he was a mute speaking for the first time. Sylar took the juice out of her frozen hand, and slipped the unzipped jumper over her shoulders.

"I'll get Doug's drink, shall I?"

As he walked away, he could hear the jumper zip up, and knew Jane was now wrapped in an item of his clothing. The idea was much more arrousing then he expected. He quickly poured the kid not half a small glass, then turned to see Jane wrapped in his black jumper, her arms around herself and her nose burried deep in the fabric. If he didn't know better, she was smelling it.

"You ok there?" Sylar asked with a smile to his voice.

Jane started with a deep blush. "Yes," she squeaked. "Perfectly fine."

She grabbed the glass from Sylar and darted away from his leering figure.

As she handed the still disturbed Doug his drink, she couldn't help but fall down in the chair next to him, her eyes glossed over and troubled.

This was the first time Sylar had spoken to her since that night so many weeks ago in her room. How could it be that after weeks of an icy shoulder and a mean demeanor, he could suddenly blow up her boyfriend's car, and willingly go into cramped spaces with her?

_Ha_, she thought bitterly to herself, _'boyfriend'_. He was only there to serve as a Sylar duplicate. Everytime she kissed him, she closed her eyes and tried to think of the dark figure who slept only a wall away from her.

Doug smelt constantly like a locker room, and so Jane associated this with what Sylar would smell like. But now that she had a piece of Sylar's clothing wrapped tightly around her, the scent of real masculinity overwhelmed her senses. This only brought home the depressing fact that Doug would never be her Sylar, and her Sylar would never be hers.

Jane's eyes swam with unshed tears as she watched Doug down the drink in a second.

"My car..." Doug said in a one-toned voice. "Why did it... blow up?"

Jane's eyes flashed quickly in Sylar's direction, her eyes quickly sweeping over his lounging figure. Sylar kept his eyes level on her, and watched as she bit her bottom lip and turned away.

"Stuff like that happens, Doug," Jane comforted. "There was nothing you could have done to stop it."

Doug's bottom lip quivered as he played with his empty glass distractedly in his hands. " But I spent so much money on it... that was never meant to happen."

"I know," soothed Jane sweetly, her hand resting against Doug's, "I know."

Sylar watched her delicate pale skin touch against Doug's, and felt his stomach clentch painfully. He didn't want her touching him. Why was Doug, a man so below Jane, getting all the attention?

"Jane," Sylar said in a sweet voice, moving up to her and placing his hand on her shoulder, "you must be very tired. Let me take care of our dear Douglas, and you can get some shut eye."

Jane sighed, and shut her eyes. It just didn't seem fair that the minute she had a normal guy who plainly wanted her, the dark and dangerous man, who lately seemed to abhore the very ground she walked on, showed his own devotion.

"No," Jane sighed. "It's fine. I can drive him back home."

Doug hiccuped dully, and his eyes found Jane's. "But what about my car?"

Sylar snorted, "It's not going to be going anywhere."

This had Doug's eyes brimming over with tears, and his shoulders shaking slightly. His head dropped low and he let out a long groan.

Jane grimaced and shot Sylar a look.

There was a loud exclamation from the front porch, and a few seconds later the front door was swinging open. Sasha Hart was standing next to her mother, both girls showing an equal amount of excitement and horror on their faces.

"What the hell happened out there!?" Sasha asked. She and Susan Hart enterred the house fully, slamming the door behind them as they kicked off their shoes. Sasha spotted Doug and put on a sultry pout as she glided over to him.

"Hey Doug!" she cried patting him on the back. "Was that your car?"

All Doug could do was whimper, and so Jane answered with a stiff, "Yes."

She didn't like the way her sister reacted to her 'boyfriend'. She wasn't ignorant to her sister's way with men, and knew exactly what would happen unless she warned her off right now.

"Poor, Doug," Susan said in her 'motherly' voice, as she came up to where the three of them were.

Sylar moved off to the wall opposite the scene where he could view Jane with burning eyes. He watched with a smirk as the girl constantly flushed.

"What happened, Dougey-Poo?" Sasha whispered, her hand playing through douglas's light brown hair.

Jane bristled slightly and crossed her arms. Sasha drew away from Doug, knowing to pick her battles. Sylar watched Jane's reaction with growing frustration – _how can __she__ be protective of __that__?_

"I don't know what happened," Doug whispered, oblivious to the effect he had on the Hart residents as his eyes uddenly became wide and alarmed. "It just went WHOOSH!" he made a large gesture with his hands that almost had the glass flying across the room, "All that time and care, up in flames!"

He calmed back down, and his whole body seemed to frown as he slowly deflated.

"I know what you need," Susan suddenly said, slapping Doug's shoulder in her epiphany.

"Doug, why don't you and Jane come with Sasha and I to the fair this Sunday?" she suggested, her hands splayed and her mouth open as if expecting an applause. Jane looked up at her mom warily, her tomach twisting uneasily.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hart..." Doug said slowly. "But I don't know if Jane would want me encrouching on a family outing."

"Oh," Sylar said, smiling like a hunter closing in on prey, "Don't be silly! You've been dating a month. How about I come to? Is that alright, Susan? We could make it one large outing."

Susan visually brightened at this suggestion. She clip-clopped in her overly large clogs over to Sylar, then placed an enthusiastic hand on his arm.

"That's a fantastic idea!" she cried gripping him slightly as she appealed to a stunned Jane and a slightly chipper Doug. "What do you think?"

"Great," Doug said, looking to Jane. "Right?"

Jane's wide eyes were set on Sylar as her head gave an uncertain, jerking nod.

_This is crazy_, Jane repeated to herself, _none__ of this makes sense. __What__ is he doing to me?_

She closed her eyes, and felt her confusion and exhaustion sweep down on her in one fatal blow. She swayed on her seat, and felt someone catch her before she slipped off the side.

"Woah, Gabriel," Jane heard Susan say. "I think you broke the sound of light."

Jane opened her eyes to see Sylar propping her up on her chair. He was close, too close for Jane not to respond to his touch. She swayed again, but this time in search of Sylar's embrace.

"Aw," Susan cooed, "She's dead on her feet."

"Do you need me to help you get up to your rooms?" Sylar asked, his hands rubbing against her arms in a way that didn't suggest he was just trying to warm her.

"Please," Jane asked. "Don't."

_Don't what?_ Sylar wondered. _I can't not doing anything now, Jane,_ he silently told her, _I __feel__ something..._

"I'm just tired." Jane said suddenly, pulling slowly from Sylar.

They both held on a little longer then they should have, but eventually let go. Jane got unsteadily to her feet, and began to pad her way to the stairs. Knowing all the way there, that Sylar was just a step behind, his arms held out in permanent readiness to catch her should she fall.

Something had changed that night...

As Jane threw off all her clothes but the black jumper, she looked out the window just in time to seem a bolt of lightning break open the air. And as she was seteling inbetween the covers, preparing for another dream about a Sylar who wasn't as confusing as the real one, the rain finally began to pour.

_**(A/N) Next up – Sylar's intentions become very clear on a picnic bench...**_


	6. We are Broken

_I am outside  
And I've been waiting for the sun  
And with my wide eyes  
I've seen worlds that don't belong  
My mouth is dry  
With word I cannot verbalise  
Tell me why  
We live like this  
Keep me safe inside  
Your arms like towers  
Tower over me  
__Cause we are broken  
What must we do to restore  
Our innocence  
And all the promise we adored_  
- We are Broken by Paramore

Jane Hart grimaced as her beaten pick up screamed an announcement of her arrival. _So much for subtle_. Her breath held in her throat as she looked around, but it didn't seem to have alerted anyone. With a heavy sigh, Jane relaxed her muscles and looked around the cab. She lifted her navy jumper off the shopping bags resting on the passenger seat, and slipped it over her grey long sleeved shirt.

Fall had certainly arrived in Bray. Its cold, body chilling air swept over the town with gusto, no pun intended, resulting in the summer clothes being quickly cast aside in favor for warmer atire. The once green trees now became a hue of oranges and reds, and constantly looked aflame when the sun hit them just right.

Jane gathered the rest of her things and slipped out of the car into the crisp day.

Everything was quiet around her house. All that could be heard was the rustling of wind through trees, and kids laughing distantly. Her house loomed in the stillness, offering her solace.

_If he isn't there, that is._ Jane thought, chewing on her bottom lip. _But where else would he be?_

It was getting ridiculous. Truly. She couldn't even be in the same room as him without thinking about how absoluletly magnetic he was. Sometimes, quite horrifically, when Jane wasn't in complete check of her feelings, she foudn herself slowly drifting towards him, her eyes at half mast and her lips puckered.

Battling with irrational fear, Jane gathered her wits about her and walked up towards the house.

This afternoon they would all be going to the fair together, and Jane couldn't seem to keep the anxiety down at this thought. It seemed to her a horrific plan set up to humilate her. To have to pretend to be happily attatched to Doug, while Sylar was just stone's throw away, seemed an impossible taske. Jane could just see herself saying something she'd regret.

All she could hope was, with the presence of her mother, Sylar would be pretending to be the good boy he wasn't. If he continued to do those _things._.. If he continued to act like a dangerous man intent on getting Jane on her own and away from Doug... He just might succeed.

_Something must be seriously wrong with me._ Jane thought to herself as she shook her head violentlylike a dog after a bath._It musn't be healthy that the more dangerous he acts, the more I feel myself wanting him. _

Cursing her confusing love interest, Jane enterred the house and made a quick B-Line for her bedroom. This meant that she came horribly close to Sylar's room, but she hoped agaisnt hope that he was somehow mysteriously absent.

Each step seemed to be horribly magnified in the silence, every breath, every heart beat. Even the hall seemed to stretch out like an never ending road which had her room now miles away. She bgean her trek needlessly quiet, because Sylar had known she was there since her car turned onto their street.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

A timid knock came at the front door, and Sylar, who had been tying up his black shoes in the foyer, was the first to swing it open in welcome. Doug Fernan stood on the front porch, his body dressed in light blue jeans, a tight dark green shirt and a red plaid shirt over top. He looked like the perfect small town boy.

"Hello there, Doug," Sylar said in a crawling voice. "Come on in."

Doug hesitated, taking in Sylar's new attire with wide eyes. Sylar had reverted back to wearing black for the occasion. He wore black jeans, a black wifebeater covered by a black hoodie and on top of that a black coat. He still wore his glasses though, and his hair was only slightly gelled. The overall effect was very intimidating.

"Is that you, Doug?" called a voice, and both boys turned to smile over at Jane as she ran down the stairs.

Jane was wearing dark blue slightly flared jeans, and a red top covered by a blue hoodie that showed off her curves perfectly. It took all Sylar had to not walk up to the girl and greet her with a very passionate kiss. Her hair was up in a pony tail that swung freely with every movement, and her perfect lips were covered in a cherry lipgloss.

"Hey, Babe," Doug greeted, stepping away from Sylar as Jane came walking up towards him. They embraced with a hug, Sylar watching over the whole procedure at an awkward closeness.

"We're just waiting on my mom to return from the bank," Jane said to Doug once they withdrew. "So come on in."

She was doggedly avoiding to look at Sylar as she poured all her attention extravegantly out on Doug. It was a champion effort, thought Sylar, but he would soon have her attention.

As Jane and Doug sat on the couch, Sylar sat down on a chair that was right in Jane's line of vision.

"You look lovely today, Jane," said Sylar, his voice making work of the word lovely. "Is that sweater new?"

"Yes," Jane breathed, her eyes still fixed on Doug. "I got it today."

Sylar smirked. "Especially for... Doug."

"Yeah," Jane said, smiling at her beau.

Doug smiled brightly, his whole body perking up. "Aw, Babe, thanks! You look hot!"

Doug then pulled Jane towards him, and as Sylar watched with mounting fury, the two began to kiss.

It wasn't a passionate, spell boudning kiss by any means. It looked more awkward the anything from where Sylar sat. Doug's arms held Jane tightly to him, but as Jane held him back, her hands clenched together into balls. Her brow knitted together anxiously, and her foot tapped like she was counting down the seconds.

Sylar cleared his throat harshly, and Jane withdrew from Doug quickly. Her eyes were hard and accusing as she stared at the boy.

"What?" Doug asked, completely confused as he watched Jane stand from the couch and walk off towards the foyer. He got up to follow her, but suddenly found Sylar's hand on his shoulder. Doug looked up into his competition's face with fear, and found quite an evil smile beamig down at him.

"Let me talk to her," Sylar said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked towards her.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane was lacing up her Converse quite vigorously as Sylar approached. Her mouth was working furiosuly as she talked to herself. Sylar could already hear her muttering "Stupid, Stupid, Stupid Girl" as he came closer.

The foyer was just a space of about 3 metres by 2 meters right in front of the door where the occupents of the Hart house could remove or adorn their different shoes that sat waiting on a mounted shoe holder. There was a small seat for people to sit on while they went about their business, and that's where Jane was.

Sylar leaned up against the space of wall next to the shoe tree, and observed her smal hands clenching around the shoelaces. He had never seen her so out of sorts.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Peachy," Jane growled back. Her head snapped up, and Sylar could see the flash of anger in her eyes, "Why d-"

But at that moment, Sylar's appearance registered in Jane's brain, and she felt momentairly stunned.

He was all black clothes and danger, just like the man in her dreams. And like that man in her dreams, he seemed to be ready to sweep her up into his arms and grab at her lips with his.

The thought of being wrapped in an embrace with Sylar had Jane flushing uncontrollably. _How does he do this to me?_

The sight of color across Jane's cheeks had the same effect of Sylar, and he had to clentch his hands into balls to fight off the butterflies in his stomach. _I need to get her alone..._

"Why don't we just blow this off?" Sylar began to suggest, watching the way Jane stared at him with growing heat. She stayed rooted to the seat, but her eyes were already kissing him, already taking off his shirt...

"Jane, I think I see your mom's car!" Doug came walking in from the kitchen where he had been staring out into the street and waiting for Sylar, who he thought was actually talking to Jane for him.

Jane slid out from Sylar's gaze quickly, brushing off her jumper distractedly as she moved up to Doug.

She had been so stupid to think she could handle this. Jane was never great at playing pretend, and that's all this situation was – a game of make believe. She couldn't pretend to be Doug's girl while all the while drooling over Sylar. She couldn't go to the fair pretending she wasn't completely fallen for the dark stranger. And worst of all, Jane had brought Doug along with her, dragging him down into her pit of denial.

_I'm a horrible person..._ she concluded, vowing to try her best to survive tonight.

"Ready?" she asked Doug, moving in a trance like state as he pulled her in close.

Doug took this as enamored complacency, and gave Sylar a thumbs up thanks. Sylar's eyes spat fire in response.

"I think we're all ready to get this going," Sylar said in a voice with a dangerous undertone.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Jane nervously fidgeted with the radio as her pick-up idled at a red light. Her legs twitched near the gas pedal and her lip was turning redder by the minute as she nibbled on it.

"You're not going to have any lip left if you carry on," Sylar said tenderly, his eyes sweeping over Jane's puffy and aggitated lower lip as he said this.

"Why don't you mind your own girlfriend's lips," Doug grumbled from the backseat.

Jane looked at him through her rear view mirror, trying to appoligize silently as she met his troubled eyes. Sylar had stolen front seat from him when they had decided the three of them would car pool together, and now Doug sulked in the back with his arms crossed. His mind growing more and more suspicious over his 'pal'.

Jane revved up her engine in impatience, waiting for the light to switch to green.

"I like this song," Sylar said, turning up the Beatles remake of All My Loving. He met Jane's glance with a quirk of his lips, and then watched with a widening smile as she gripped hard on her leather bound steering wheel.

"How old are you?" Doug snarked, his eyes glaring into the back of Sylar's head.

Doug then suddenly began to cough violently, as if he was being strangled. Jane whipped her head around quickly, her eyes wide as she looked towards Doug who had his hand on his heaving chest.

"What happened?" she asked angrily, fright making her sharp.

"The seatbelt got really tight," Doug gasped, testing the now loose safety device.

Jane sat back in her seat, eyes wide and panicked. Her breath was quick and shallow as she tried to stop her head whirling.

"The light's green, Jane," Sylar pointed out, acting non-chalant.

"Stop it," Jane whispered.

"What?" Doug asked.

"Nothing," Jane snapped at him, revving her engine then speeding off down the street.

"You have to stop terrorizing him," Jane whispered over the loud sound system. "Its me you don't like."

"Don't like?" Sylar replied, his eyes roaming over Jane's figure.

Silence decended them for awhile, the music blaring in Jane's humming ears. All she could hear was her thumping heart. Doug sung along to the songs, completely ignorant.

"Just send him home, Jane." Sylar said in a slow whisper.

"What? And be left alone with you?" Jane quipped.

"You want that, Jane." Sylar said in a coaxing manner. If Doug wasn't in the back seat, Sylar would cut the engine at that moment and show her how much she did want him. "Don't you?"

"I don't trust you." Jane whispered, her eyes shining in the sun that was directly in front of the windshield.

Sylar was stumped momentarily, his body freezing up in dread. He had been so sure she did.

"You don't?" Sylar asked, his voice momentarily hurt and hoarse.

Jane's eyes snapped to Sylar's face, and Sylar thought he could still see the love and trust that had been there when they first met. But what if he was mistaken? What if it was all in his mind, and he had truly succeeded in warning her off?

"Hey," Doug said suddenly, his finger pointed out the window. "There it is! Bigger then last year..."

Sylar watched Jane turn away, her mouth not opening for breaths. She seemed frozen, which disturbed him more then anything. Was all this torment his fault? Was something actually wrong with Jane? Was she just sad about the fact she didn't have and more feeling for him? Or maybe she was just torn between liking him again or going with the numbing cold rejection brought on... Or worse, what if she did still like him, but she also really didn't trust him - and so the attraction turned to self loathing...

"You ok?" he asked, actual concern in his voice.

She sucked her lips into a white line and jerked her head into a nod. "Peachy," she squeaked as she pulled quickly into a spot, fixed her gears, and cut the engine.

"Look, Jane..." Sylar began, his hand reaching out to touch her. Jane turned to look at him, her eyes wide and shining like she was standing on a cliff ledge, begging Sylar her talk her back from it.

"Hey, dude!" Doug called, his face suddenly appearing through the gap of the two front seats. "No touchy my Jane."

Sylar cocked his eyebrow and asked, "Your Jane?" The tone implied something, and it had Doug looking towards Jane's seat. But it was empty – Jane having left the cab.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"Hey!" Shsha Hart yelled out, jumping around excitedly, "One more shot and you get the big teddy bear!"

"He's cheating or something..." Doug protested looking into the duck shooting booth with squinting eyes. "Somehow..."

"How," Sylar asked in a high mocking voice, knowing quite well how he was so good, and that Doug would never be able figure it out.

"I don't know," snapped back Doug, "but you are."

Jane grimaced at him, and watched as Sylar easily made the final, and ultimately winning, shot. The small group of people clapped for Sylar as the booth manager reached up to take the big fat light purple teddy bear down from its high shelf. It was plush, and practically glittered in the fading day light as it was handed over to an awkward looking Sylar.

Jane giggled slightly as he looked at the teddy's blank beady eyes staring back at him.

"Here," Sylar said, handing it off to Jane who suddenly resembled a deer caught in headlights. "I'm not carrying it around."

Jane flushed red as she took it from him and hugged it close to her. "Thank you," she whispered to him, her lips twitching at the corners.

"Anything to see you smile again," Sylar whispered as the rest of them all began to wander towards the next booth.

"Hey, Gabriel!" Sasha called as she waved from another prize booth. "Come here."

Sylar shrugged and walked up to her, Jane following in his wake timidly before stopping next to an irate Doug.

"Try this one," Sasha said, pointing to a Whack-a-Mole machine. "I bet you're great at this one too."

Doug gave a loud groan to show his disagreement, and Sylar turned to face him.

"Would you like a go instead?" he asked, gesturing grandly to the game.

Doug stood there, judging it for a few seconds, before he nodded vigorously. Pushing past Jane and Sylar, Doug came up to the machine. He inserted a coin and waited as the game made wild electronic noises.

"Good luck," Sylar said.

Jane rolled her eyes and held closer to the bear as she watched.

Doug raised the hammer, and threw it down onto an appearing mole. It looked like a direct hit until, at the last second, the hammer moved off its target and slammed down on the machine's body. The group stifled their giggles.

Doug rolled his shoulders before raising it again and trying for another mole, but the same thing happened. Doug tried and failed to hit the moles numerous times, his ears turning steadily red as he went. Jane glanced up at Sylar to see him playing idly with the teddy bear she held. He looked up at her and smiled.

Finally, after attempt number 15, Doug looked over to where Jane stood in hopes she would give him an encouraging nod. Instead, Doug saw her watching Sylar run his hands slowly through the bear's fur sensously. The man's long hands aplied slight pressure as he fiddle with the ears, and Jane's gaze became fixed and heated.

"Hey!" Doug called, pointing at the pair with his hammer. "Stop that!"

Sylar looked up innocently, his hand leaving the purple fur. Jane bit her bottom lip and looked anywhere else but at Doug.

The machine then gave a depressing low whirling sound, and then a chorus of boos broke out. The machine yelled out 'LOSER!' over and over again as the moles popped up and down in their holes laughing.

"Bloody machine!" Doug said angrily as he threw the mallet at one of the moles. It hit it's target, resulting in the head of the mallet to break off and fly back at Doug. It also hit it's target.

"Yikes," Sasha said, stepping back as a gasping Doug stumbled towards her. "Bull's Eye!"

"Sasha," Jane cried out indignantly, moving up to Doug who was bent over, wheezing, and holding his crotch. She ran a hand comfortingly down his spine as she asked "Are you alright?"

"'Course I'm not," Doug snapped. "You're man-friend over there almost killed me."

"Doug," Jane sighed, closing her eyes momentarily. "That's crazy. He was over near me. He had just as much chance doing anything then I did."

"You best walk it off," Sylar suggested to the couple.

"Yes," Jane said tersely. "Thank you." She then threw the teddy bear at Sylar. He caught it easily with a furrowed brow. "You hold it," Jane snapped at him.

Jane then helped Doug stand up a bit straighter, and the two shuffled away.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

Doug watched angrily as Jane stared down absently at her hands. He had an icepack to his brusied parts, and he was expecting a bit of sympathy.

"It hurts, Jane." he moaned slightly, trying to adjust himself, and groaned from pain in response.

"Stop that, Doug," Jane snapped, her eyes not moving from her hands. "You're only making it worse." She was silent again as her hands ran in over each other slowly.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" he asked accusingly.

Jane started and blinked at him, "What? No."

Doug shook his head and stared angrily down at the ground. "He fancies you."

"You're acting rather childish," Jane said with a sigh. "Gabriel isn't like that."

"Yes, he is!" Doug said, looking at Jane like she was thick. "Jane, can't you see it? He's trying to break us up!"

Doug gave a loud sigh as he tried to adjust himself. He whimpered loudly.

"Jeez, Doug!" Jane cried, her head swining around to glare at him. "What have I told you?"

"Dating you has become hazardous to my health." Doug grumbled down at his blue ice pack.

"What do you mean by that?" Jane snapped, her eyes hard.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

The soft cries came from the outskirts of the fair, where earlier in the day people lunched on the picnic benches. Now, all life seemed to be sucked away from the area where only distant laughing and machinery could be heard. The whole area hid in the shadows of the night where only moonlight touched.

Sylar walked carefully into the area, his eyes wide as he tired to figure out where precisely Jane was. There were about five dark brown picnic tables, and around them towered trees. On the furthest table, Sylar could see something outlined by moonlinght. He honed in on it with his powers, and could hear the distinctive cries that had brought him to this area in the first place.

He walked up silently towards her, not daring to even breathe in case she heard him and scurried off.

"Jane," he breathed once he was close enough to see her downcast portfolio.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. Her face was drenched in tears and her arms were shakily wrapped around herself. Her whole figure seemed to tremble with emotion as Sylar approached carefully.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes fixed to hers.

Jane's bottom lip trembled as she turned her face away again. "We broke up," she whispered in a voice that was barely a breath.

Sylar's happiness at this news didn't even register in his now anxious brain. He wouldn't have driven them to a break up if he had known she's be this torn up about it. Well, maybe he would - but he wouldn't have done it so violently.

"I'm sorry," Sylar whispered.

He pulled himself up onto the table and sat next to Jane. He could hear her crying quietly, and felt his own eyes heat up. What if all her upset was his fault. Then, to Sylar's suprise, Jane began to laugh quietly.

"That's not even why I'm crying," she said, raising her head once more to look at him. He saw no mirth in her eyes. "Isn't that horrible? I'm horrible..."

"You're not, Jane," Sylar swore. He took one of his arms and placed it across Jane's shoulder where he rubbed her comfortingly.

"But I must be," Jane whispered, her eyes wide and on him. "I made Doug go through all that, and all the while I was just waiting for..."

Silence descended them, and for awhile all Jane could do was cry. They were soft, pathetic noises that made her even more depressed and disgusted with herself. Her hands wrung around themselves in her lap, and her bottom lip had become painful to talk with because of her insistent chewing.

"Tell me, Jane," Sylar whispered. He took his arm off her shoulders, and took up Jane's fretting hands in his own.

"I was just waiting for you," Jane said in a quiet voice to their joined hands.

"For me to what, Jane?" Sylar asked, his eyes now dancing with fire.

_If she tells me what to do, I won't deny her..._

"For you to realize that you want me," Jane replied.

Sylar took in a sharp breath as he held tightly to Jane's hands. His whole mind seemed to be ablaze, his skin crawled with need and his insides danced with joy.

"It took me awhile to figure it out," Sylar said, his eyes fixed to Jane's bent head, "that's for sure."

Jane raised her head quickly, her brown eyes widening and meeting his. Her mouth hung open in shock, and Sylar couldn't help but smile at her look of utter astonishment.

"What," Sylar sighed, tracing a finger down her slack jaw. "Are you that surprised?"

Jane gave a small nod, which sent Sylar into a laugh.

"Please," he said gently.

Sylar took Jane's hands and placed them around his neck where she held tight to him. Jane kept her eyes fixed to Sylar's as she ran her hand up and down the back of his neck and into his hair experimentally. All the while Sylar ran his hands down the length of Jane's willing body. Starting from her shoulders, Sylar felt down the length of her curves, coming to rest on her hips. Jane shivered with need as Sylar's finger's travelled idly down onto her jeans.

Sylar then pulled Jane in tight against his chest, loving the way she gasped in surprise. He could feel her heart beat against him through the fabric of their clothes, and he didn't hesitate from kissing her exposed coller bone. Her skin was heated there, which had Sylar smiling affectionatly.

_She's so willing..._

"Are you ready for me?" Sylar asked, his breath sending Jane's eyes fluttering.

"I've been ready for so long," Jane whispered, swaying in close to Sylar.

"No more substitues," Sylar said slowly, his mouth right up close to Jane's, "it's time for the real thing."

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"Sasha," Susan Hart sighed, her feet rolling around in their nikes, "I'm tired. Go find the rest of them."

"Alright, mom," Sasha said happily, giving her mother a brilliant smile before turning. Her feet fell unnessecarily hard as she walked away, but Susan didn't seem to notice as she fished in her purse for the car keys.

Sasha made her way to the ticket booth, where she figured she could ask the guy in charge if he'd seen any of them recently buy tickets. If they hadn't that meant they were probably at the food pavillion, seeing as Sasha's mother held all the tickets.

As she made her way up to the large orange booth, she heard a small whimpering cry from the picnic area just down a little ways. It was sucluded and dark, and had served as Sasha's own love nest on several occasions. Sasha was a secretive person, and respected other poeple's need for privacy, but she recognised the heated cry as that of her sister's.

"Jane," she whispered, her lips stretching into a viscious smile as she catioulsy walked over to the shaded and cut off section of the park.

She stuck to the outlining of trees as she slunk around to get a better view of what seemed to be, from a distance, a wrestling match. The area was dead quiet, so the murmings and grunts cut through the air as if they were ebing screaed rather then whispered. Sasha hid behind a particularily fat tree trunk as she listened in.

"Not here," said a male voice Sasha recognised as Sylar's.

"I don't want to stop," Jane whispered back between moans.

"Jane, I won't stop wanting you if we wait five minutes to get back to your house."

"Let's not risk it."

"I refuse to take you on a picnic table."

"Party pooper."

Sasha held her breath for a dangerous amount of time, refusing to exhale until the pair had made their exit from the area. Finally, when Sasha felt her head swimming, she heard the pair cracking twigs beneath their retreating feet. With a rushing breath out, her hands excitedly went to her purse.

She threw out the various tampons, condoms and loose change before finally her hand found what she was looking for.

Flipping open the mobile phone, Sasha quickly punched in the desired number with her ecrylic fingernails. She waited for three rings until finally someone picked up.

She spat out her tasteless gum into the surrounding still trees and then began to speak, "You will never guess who I saw my sister with."


	7. Everything Changes

I'm the mess you chose  
The closet you cannot close  
The devil in you I suppose  
'Cause the wounds never heal  
Sometimes the things I say  
The moments of disarray  
Succumbing to the games we play  
To make sure it's real  
When it's just me and you  
Who knows what we could do  
If we could just make it through  
The toughest part of the day

- Everything Changes by Staind

Mohinder Suresh walked down the long carpeted hallway with a hard look to his face. All around him he could hear quiet muttering as he passed. Everyone was descreetly going about their own business. The building seemed to be very busy, but Mohinder could understand why. The death of Peter Petrelli hit their interests hard, and now they were on the look out for a killer. Again.

For a feared company, they didn't have the best track record of keeping ahold on their prisoners.

Mohnider reached his destination, and knocked hard on the thick red wood door three times.

"Come in," called a female voice.

Mohinder flung open the door dramatically, and met the unimpressed face of Elle Bishop. She was sitting on her father's desk popping gum and playing with a golden ball. She quirked her lips prettily at Mohnider before turning around and looking to her father, Bob Bishop, who sat behind the desk.

"Look who's here, Daddy," Elle said in her sweet voice.

"Dr. Suresh!" Bob said happily, leaning back in his leather wing backed chair. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hello," Mohinder said stiffly, slightly unnerved by the look in Elle's eyes. She snapped her gum and winked. "I have some information that you might find helpful."

"Doubt it," Elle said, affecting a pout. "We don't have any use for a underfunded scientist."

"Now, Elle," Bob said softly, placing a hand on her's. "Be nice to Dr. Suresh."

"Its quite important," Mohinder said, put out. "It concerns Sylar."

"Enlighten us," Bob said casually, giving Mohinder a cool look that was mirrored by his daughter.

"Peter Petrelli came to my loft this morning, going on about a rumor he had heard that Sylar is hiding out in Bray, Louisianna. That he has a reltionship with a young girl!" Mohinder said. "At first I didn't believe him, because it seemed far fetched that Sylar would leave the city, land it also seemed unlikely that Peter would ever figure out what Sylar's current love life was."

"Ouch," Elle interrupted, "Peter's a very talented boy, you souldn't be so mean to him."

Mohinder glanced at her before turning his attention back on Bob.

"And how did young Mr. Petrelli find all this out?" Bob asked, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing down at his watch.

"He drew it," Mohinder replied quickly. "You know, his ability of precognition-"

"Yes, yes," Bob said, sitting up and waving away Mohinder. "Of course, I know."

"Why didn't Peter come tell me," Elle mused aloud, the ball in her hand suddenly covered in blue electric currents.

"Because he doesn't trust this place," Mohinder snapped at the foolish girl. "And neither do I."

"Why come to us then," Elle shot back, her eyes cold as she looked towards him. "God, Mohinder. Chillax. All that nobility is getting to your head."

"Well," Bob interrupted before Mohinder could reply to Elle. "Thank you very much, Dr. Suresh. We will certainly be looking into this."

Elle hopped off the desk and walked towards the door, brushing past Mohinder as she went, sending his hair statically on edge. Mohinder watched her with a furled brow, and when she opened the door and gestured towards it, he turned back to Bob who was sipping tea with an appreciative look across his face.

"What," Mohinder asked, looking towards the older man. "That's it?"

"What else do you want, Dr. Suresh?" Bob asked. "You are no longer part of this company, there for have no right to this information or the goings on of this opperation."

"But Sylar must be stopped," Mohinder insisted meeting a stoney expression. "Please, I promised Peter I would make sure this was followed through."

"And then you came running to us," Elle sighed. "I don't think your word counts for much."

"Now wait," Bob said, sitting up in his chair and giving Mohinder an appraising look. "I think we can work something out."

"Anything," Mohinder said. "Sylar must be brought down. Bray is in trouble if they have someone like Sylar hiding out there."

"A bit overly heroic, isn't he Daddy," Elle sighed, closing the door insolently and leaning against it.

"Dr. Suresh," Bob began, "Mohinder, if I may, I think we can reach a deal. Now, you want to see Sylar taken down?"

"Yes, of course," Mohinder enthused.

"And I want to send my daughter out into the feild again." Bob said, gesturing to Elle who had visibly lightened. "But there's a problem with that. Last time she went out, she killed a someone. And naturually, I don't want anyone dying on this mission."

Mohinder eyed Elle in a frightened way, but knew the girl wasn't all bad. She had saved his, Molly's and Maya's life from Sylar the last time they all came into contact.

"I need someone with her, a calming influence if you like." Bob explained.

"And you want me to be that influence?" Mohinder asked.

Bob smiled. "Precisely. I think you'd be perfect for it."

Mohinder sighed and hung his head. Nothing seemed to ever really go his way. He could just see himself and Elle quarelling for the whole assignment. But, if it meant being apart of taking down Sylar, then that's what he'd do.

"Fine." Mohinder said in a clipped voice. "I think we can settle on those terms."

"Excellent," Bob said, standing and walking around the desk. He came up to Mohinder and offered his hand which Mohinder shook hesitantly. "Welcome back."

Mohinder turned to where Elle stood by the door, leaning against it and smiling brightly.

"Hey partner," she said gladly, throwing the golden ball at Mohinder, who caught it quickly. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

**O-O-O-O-O-O-O**

"Mmm," Elle sighed, leaning back in the first class seat and turning to a concerned looking Mohinder. "What do you think of some champagne? Celebrate our new partnership."

"I don't drink," Mohinder said, his eyes sweeping over the assigned file in his hand.

"Well, I do," Elle said, quickly pressing on Mohinder's stewardess button.

"Can you really zap people into unconciousness?" Mohinder asked, viewing the girl beside him warily.

"Yeah," Elle said proudly, siting up a little straighter. "I'm a menace."

She was wearing three quarter tight jeans, and a tight pink top with the words "Little Miss Naughty" across them. You wouldn't have been able to tell she was a danger by looking at her.

"I hate teenagers," Mohinder grumbled, placing the manilla folder onto his fold out tray. "Why do I have to be a biology teacher!"

"I bet you're great with kids." Elle said soothingly. "Anyway, at least you don't have to pretend to be a teenager."

Mohinder looked over to her with a furled brow. "You are a teenager."

"Hello," Elle said hotly, "I'm 23. What are you? 32?"

"26," Mohinder siad hotly, trying to block Elle out now.

"Oh really?" Elle asked, her eyes travelling down Mohinder's conservative brown outfit. "You should act more your age. I would have gotten it right if you loosened up a bit."

"No," Mohinder snapped, "I don't want to."

"Oh, very mature," Elle laughed. "Give it time. A few days with me, and you'll be a bit more carefree."

"Maybe you should be the one acting more like me." Mohinder sniped back, "Maybe then you won't need a partner."

"How lonely," Elle sighed. "A life with no partner? All stiff upper lip and maturity? Yikes."

"Works for most people."

"Even Sylar has a girlfriend," Elle pointed out. "He didn't get her by acting like you."

"I'm not looking for an 18 year old girlfriend."

"But I bet you want one." Elle laughed.

A flight attendent came by, smiling serenly down on the pair as she asked what they wanted.

"A glass of champagne, please," Elle ordered, smiling back broadly. "Hwo about you, Dr. Suresh?"

"Scotch. On the Rocks." Mohinder sighed, his hand working at his tense neck.

"How manly," Elle commented as the flight attendent walked away down the aisle. "What happened to not drinking?"

"It went the way of my patience." Mohinder replied, rolling his eyes as Elle smacked his arm.

"I'm not that bad. Give me a chance!"

Their drinks arrived, and Mohinder downed his quickly. He knew he shouldn't be so hard on Elle, but this whole assignment... He could relax more once Sylar was locked up for good behind the company's walls. He might even be fun. But until this business with Sylar remained unfinished, Mohinder doubted he'd ever be able to relax. In a world where Sylar existed, Molly was never safe...

Elle had taken out a DS and an iPod, and was presently singing along to a song quietly as she played Brain Age. She was quite pretty, Mohinder decided, and if she wasn't completely juvenile, he might have found her enchanting.

But for the time being, Mohinder was unaware that he'd come about to liking Elle very much.

"How's that little girl?" Elle asked, taking a sip of her champagne. "Molly?"

"She's fine." Mohinder replied, his brow furrowed as he put down his empty glass. "She's staying with a friend."

"It must be so hard..." Elle said, her eyes suddenly sad. "I don't remember being a little girl."

"You don't?" Mohinder asked, his brow furrowed.

Elle laughed suddenly, the moment of melancholy gone. "Oh well," she said brightly. "who wants to remember that! But I bet you take care of Molly very well."

"She wants for nothing," Mohinder replied, nodding.

"Good." Elle said, bringing up her DS once more. "Now, go over what we have to do once we find the slime ball."

"I surprise him, you shock him, we bag and tag him, and then send him off to the company." Mohinder rehearsed. "Why do I need to remember it?"

"Well, that's just a base plan. Something to make us feel better." Elle explained. "But seriously, we don't have any plan. We don't know where he is, if he's killing, if he's got new powers, or even if he's here. No plan can be made except a spur of the moment one."

"I just hope we get to Sylar before he can hurt any one else." Mohinder said, "God only knows what he's doing to that poor girl."

Elle nodded, her eyes bright as she lowered her game and unplugged one earphone. "That's what surprises me the most. Why would he persue a romance when he's in hiding? And a young girl? Why?"

"I don't know," Mohinder said.

"Its odd." Elle concluded. "I would never have believed Sylar would do this. I wonder what she's like..."

"Most likely an idiot," Mohinder summarised, leaning back in his chair and thinking the issue over. "Sex starved and closed minded. Beautiful no doubt, but shallow. No one with any sense of self would date Sylar."

"He's good at pretending," Elle said. "I don't think we should draw any conclusions about this girl. She might actually be really sweet and smart, just blinded by love."

Mohinder snorted. "Love! Who could love a killer like Sylar?"

Elle shrugged, "I'm no shrink. But something's up. This doesn't fit his MO."

"What ever, the sooner he's behind bars, the sooner everyone is a whole lot safer."

"Agreed."

"You know what," Mohinder said, smiling at Elle. "I think I will have champagne."

Elle squealed happily and pressed the call button on his chair again.


	8. No You Girls

(A/N) Warning – Lemons ahead.

_Kiss me where your eye won't meet me  
Meet me where your mind won't kiss me  
Oh, You know, You know, You know you're so sweetly  
Oh, You know, You know, I know that I love you  
I mean I, I mean I need to love  
No you girls will never know how you make a boy feel._

_-No You Girls by Franz Fernidad_

The sun glinted off the puddles left on the school from the previous night's downpour as students poured in the gates. Sasha Hart was trying to cool her face off as she trudged through the humid air, hating everyone as her high heels dug into the muddy lawn. The sun baked down on her as she tripped up on a root and had to quickly splay herself out so as not to fall head first into the mud.

As she swiped her brown hair from her sweaty forehead and attempted to bring her heel out from its place in the ground, her eyes landed on a familiar looking black car. It was idling near the main entrance to the school, and the sun was shining in through the tinted windows at the angle that showed Sasha two silhouettes joined in an embrace. It lasted for a few good minutes before the two pulled apart.

Sasha finally managed to pull free and carefully walked towards the pavement where she finally stumbled up to her waiting friends, sweating and mud splattered.

Tanya, Sasha's friend, was standing imperiously on the concrete, brushing off her short denim skirt and turning to another girl beside her. The girl had long blond hair and keen blue eyes that matched a sly smile that revealed perfect teeth. Her small athletic body was dressed in tight denim shorts, light pink ballet flats and a darker pink tight shirt that declared "It's not me, It's you."

"I hate life," Sasha grumbled as she picked at the blades of grass stuck in her fishnets.

"That's Sasha, your one stop shop for optimism," Tanya said, laughing towards the new girl.

"Hey," said the girl, offering her hand to Sasha, "My name's Diana."

Sasha gave the girl a weird look then slowly took the offered hand. Diana began to shake Sasha's hand enthusiastically, but Sasha whipped her hand away quickly.

"Electric shock," she explained, as she shook out the overly excited nerves in her hand.

"Isn't that your sister?" Tanya asked, looking over Sasha's shoulder.

Sasha quickly turned around to see Jane shutting the black car's door as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She was smiling blissfully when the car honked twice as it drove off swiftly. She was clutching her biology book to her chest as she stared off towards the main street.

"I hate her," Sasha grumbled. "They've been at it for the whole weekend! I've only seen them come down for meals."

"I think someone's a little jealous," Tanya giggled. "Oh, here she comes."

Jane was walking peacefully down the pathway towards the school, her glossy eyes ahead of her as she smiled to herself. She spotted Sasha and immediately cast her eyes back to the ground

Sasha smiled cattily and turned back to Tanya and Diana. "Why would anyone want that pervert? Anyone who can settle for my sister doesn't deserve me." She said loudly as Jane walked by.

The girl visibly cringed and the muscles in her back became taught as if she were constraining herself from action. Sasha watched happily as Jane quickly entered the school without looking back, the smile, though, clearly swiped from her face.

"You know what?" Sasha said suddenly, stretching her back out with a smile. "I feel a whole lot better."

"Am I missing something?" Diana asked, her blue eyes twinkling.

The bell rang then, and all three guys sighed irritably.

"I'll fill you in at lunch." Sasha said happily, revelling in the chance to share the gossip.

**OOO**

"Mr. Brown," called a voice teasingly from the door, and Mohinder looked up to see Elle lounging against the closed door to his classroom. She was smiling in her devilish way as she eyed him from across the room.

"You could be a bit subtler," Mohinder grumbled as he set down a grade eight's paper. "Why aren't you in your third class?"

"Ouch, Daddy," Elle mumbled, arriving at his desk. "Don't hit me; I'll be a good girl."

"You're twisted," Mohinder informed her. "What can I do for you, Elle? Or do you prefer Diana?"

"Call me whatever you want, Mr. Brown," she said, winking sexily as she sat up on the desk and began to rummage through her bag. "You're going to love me!" she declared as she brought out her camera. She handed it over to him.

Mohinder turned the camera on and switched it to display mode. The first picture was of a young girl with medium length brown hair. She wore a light flowing skirt that stopped a few inches short of her knees with a white singlet and a buttoned up pink sweater. She was smiling absently, the wind in her hair as she stepped out of a building.

"Who's this?" Mohinder asked, looking up to see Elle biting viciously into an apple.

"Jane Hart, sister of Sasha Hart." Elle informed Mohinder. "What do you think of her?"

"Why? Trying to get me set up with a nice southern girl?"

"Just answer the question," Elle commanded, looking forward to see the Jane photo once more.

"Sweet," Mohinder said with a shrug. "I think she's in my Bio12 class actually, she's a bright girl. A nice girl and _very_ pretty."

"What if I told you that her sister informed that she has a boyfriend," Elle began.

"Every girl with a boyfriend is a suspect?" Mohinder asked dryly, continuing through pictures of the girl. She really did look like a sweet girl.

"No," Elle pouted, crossing her arms. "But her boyfriend is over 25, lives in as a guest in their home, moved in about two months ago and his name..."

"What?" Mohinder asked with bright eyes. "Tell me!"

"His name is Gabriel Gray."

The world was a dim hum as Mohinder looked down towards the photo of Jane, blinking down at her. She was smiling again, her cheeks flushed with the heat as she was frozen in a small dance step. Her iPod was stuck in their tight, and she seemed lost to another world.

"We need to save her."

OOO

Jane laughed lightly as her small finger traced the snarl of scar that marred the surface of Sylar's stomach. It puckered against his toned and tanned belly with alabaster abound. Sylar twitched in bed as Jane poked a finger at the center of the scar.

"How'd it happen?" Jane asked, tracing the sides of the scar soothingly.

Sylar chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. "You shouldn't be so curious."

Jane leant forward and kissed the scar tenderly before bringing her face up to where Sylar's rested against a pillow. He smiled brightly at her as she leant in and kissed his mouth tenderly. He let one hand slip down her bare back, and felt her velvety soft skin against his fingertips.

"Why are we still here?" Jane asked, tapping against Sylar's delicate collar bone.

"Meaning?" Sylar's body tensed and his head looked down at her hand as it played with the hair on his chest.

"We could go anywhere; Chicago. Las Vegas. New York."

"How would we earn money? Would you work?"

"Yes. I'd do anything to be with you."

"You'd do hard labour? Where are your credentials? You'd be a high school drop out."

"I'd be a waitress." Jane said wildly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"9-5? Late shift? You wouldn't be with me then, you'd be at work – we both would be – trying to keep up a lifestyle." Sylar was sitting up straighter.

"So long as we had one another."

"You'd soon despise me."

"Do you have such little faith in my love?" Jane asked suddenly, sitting up with him.

"No!" Sylar suddenly yelled in a possessive way as he felt Jane's body heat move away. He grabbed at her and tucked her safely under his arm. His lips eagerly spread kisses through her hair as his hands rubbed up and down her curled body as if the seconds of disconnection had been years. "I still think I've been too lucky with you – how can a bastard like me keep _you_? I once didn't believe in love..."

Jane sighed and kissed Sylar's chest.

"You made me live again, Jane. I love breathing only if the air I breathe is heavy with your scent. I only feel if It's your body in my hands. How can someone like me get someone like you and think it will last long? The things I've done...

"I don't know what you've done! You don't tell me anything about you." Jane kissed Sylar's cheek, dwelling for a moment on his stubble that tickled against her lips. "I still love you. And that's why-"

Sylar just moved in and kissed Jane thoroughly, exploring her mouth with such intensity that Jane lost her train of thought. She quickly became submissive as Sylar flipped over and straddled over her hips. He bent down and captured Jane's lips once more, his body weight pushing her further down into the mattress. Sylar's teeth bit her lips playfully as Jane gasped beneath him.

"I love you," Sylar growled.

He pushed his body down so that he was ripping off her light nightgown. It could have looked violent to someone else, but to the couple caught up in the arousal, it was the stairway to heaven. Jane gasped as Sylar's arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her down to his level. He fell down on top of her and ground incessantly against her small, soft body.

"What do you want," Sylar husked as Jane pulled at his hips. Jane just grunted as he pushed his hips down harder against hers. "Tell me."

"You!" was all Jane could manage. "Take over me." She begged into his mouth as her hands feverishly tried to remove his boxers.

Sylar got up on his knees so that Jane lay trapped beneath him. She tried to sit up but found that Sylar's strong thighs around her waist stopped her. He ripped off his shirt quickly, lost to the sound of Jane moaning and twisting under him. Noah Bennet could be outside the door and he'd not know it. It was dangerous to be so lost to the feeling of another person. What if she were ever taken from him? He was past the point where he could just forget her.

Jane had begun to get loose from Sylar's grip from her constantly squirming. He let his old smile come across his face as his eyebrows levelled seriously on his face. His eyes danced as Jane's glossy eyes stared up at him. The look of love and need in them sent his dismal thoughts soaring off into oblivion.

His powers wrapped around the girl as he pulled her from under him and pinned her half against the headboard and half supported by pillows. Her eyes were alight and her chest heaved up and down prettily.

"We'll find a way," Sylar promised as Jane grabbed at his neck and pulled him roughly against her. His hands were rough and there was a distinct difference as he grabbed hold of her thighs and began to spread them for her. "I'll bind you to me. I'll keep you mine. Could you handle that?"

"Take. Over. Me." Jane panted again, as her head lolled back, evading Sylar's lips. He grabbed hold of it by digging his fingers into her hair and pulling it back up to face him.

"Gladly," he said darkly, feeling his body turn dangerous as the animal in him pushed forward and claimed Jane's body.

OOO

Mohinder hung off the ivory, his brown hair being blown around by the sticky air as he looked in to Sylar's window. He had brought Elle along, fully expecting to not even reach the house before he was killed, but it seemed Sylar was... distracted. Mohinder's eyes were caught in the fury of his should was his mind turned and twisted with turmoil.

Elle waited impatiently on the ground, stomping her foot and practicing her aim for an electrical shock in Mohinder's nether regions.

"Disturbing," whispered Mohinder's voice from up at the window.

"What do you see?" Elle called up in her version of discreet.

Mohinder simply ignored her as his muscles along his back rippled with anger Elle hadn't seen in him. She was slightly disturbed by it, but found the emotion comforting – it appeared the doctor cared about people after all.

Just as she was gearing up to shoot the electrical shot at his most vulnerable area, the doctor expertly slid down the ivory and landed on two feet, managing to raise the camera above his head to stop any chance of damaging its precious tape.

He could have spent life in a gym rather than a lab.

"Can I see?" Elle asked, sucking back the blue zapping streaks into her palm before Mohinder could see them. He removed the tape, stored it in his pocket, and then threw the camera at the girl. She caught it with a gasp.

"I don't think you're old enough." Mohinder growled as he stormed towards their car.

Elle followed in his wake, extremely interested in the bulge in his pants pocket where the tape lay heavy. She tried to grab at it, but Mohinder jumped away.

"Interested in what I hide in my pants?" Mohinder asked.

Elle blinked at the doctor's cheek. "What's got your libido going?"

Mohinder's smile wiped quickly from his face. "It's nothing. That was disturbing, and yet she seemed... I remain convinced that the women who would ever be capable of dating Sylar or self despising, immoral twits. He's just in it for the lay."

Elle yelled out in frustration. "I want to see that tape!"

"You can be in the room when she sees it. It might soften the blow if she has someone her age around. She's hardly going to open up to her Biology teacher." Mohinder could see the scene, and was shuddering in anticipation of it.

"Do you think she's got powers?" Elle asked.

"No." Mohinder said through clenched teeth. "Whatever power she had, he's taken it from her."

"I hate you." Elle said, looking down to the bulge again. She cleared her throat and began to plan ahead to the Jane Ambush. "No power means we can trap her easier. This will be a piece of cake. We just best hope she doesn't love him too deeply."

"Why?" Mohinder asked as the pair stopped at their two doors on the rented Sedan.

"Oh, my boy," Elle sighed, opening her door. "You have much to learn about Love."


	9. Dustland Fairytale

_I saw the Devil wrapping up his hands  
He's getting ready for the showdown  
I saw the minute that I turned around  
Change came in the disguise of Revelation  
Set his soul on fire  
Says she always knew he'd come around_

_-Dustland Fairytale by the Killers_

Sylar tried to calm his pounding heart. His mouth formed a tense 'O' as he let only minimal breaths in and out and in and out. The rope veins up his arms stood out from the rest of his arms like his clenched muscles were trying to push them out from his body all together. A shaky hand ran through his black hair as he looked down at the ceiling.

He wasn't a religious man. Not anymore. His mother had been, and look where that got her? Linderman had said God had wanted what he did, and it was with Good Intentions that he followed out the Order. And, if Sylar needed any disproof – the thought that God created a monster like him, and then put Jane in his path, was proof enough that the was no Good God. However, looking down at the bare girl wrapped up in a thin white sheet on his bed, made him close his eyes and whisper a small prayer on his permanently smirking lips.

Suddenly his body went rigid, and for a moment he was stuck like that, his eyes open and on black fire as he bore holes into the ceiling.

"No," he growled, whipping his head down with great struggle. "You're not going to win like this."

He kneeled on the bed, and shook Jane's shoulder roughly. He was being a bit too rough, he could see that in the way her small frame bounced around on the mattress from the force of his hold, but he couldn't stop himself from hurting her it seemed.

Her wide brown eyes took the brightly lit room with a grimace, and she stretched her supple body out with a yawn. Sylar had always found watching this girl stir sensual, but he did not dare touch her. Not now, and maybe not ever.

"Jane," he said. He had tried to say it as gently as possible, but it came out as a low growl that had her jumping up and scooting away from him.

"Gabriel," she asked in a shaky voice. "Gabriel? What's wrong?"

The minute she saw the torment in his eyes, she foolishly advanced.

He sprang away in fear and disgust, his muscles tightening even more. He felt like a bomb loaded with shrapnel; if he was to go off he'd kill anyone around with slow painful jabs that would pierce vital organs and slowly seep life away. The inflicted wounds would get no tourniquet, and once he had died, they could dig at his victims all they want but they'd never find the root of the death. The root of that evil.

He knew that the monster was crying out for Jane. Jane was all his beast cared for, her name ran through its power like blood in a vein.

"He doesn't want to kill you." He said in his half plea, half growl.

"Who, Gabriel?" she asked, her wide eyes taking up most of her face and her bottom lip trembling with an emotion. He couldn't help but think that maybe if he had sti8ll been Gabriel, he would have known what emotion made her tremble, but the more Sylar took over, the more disconnected with humans he became. The moster raved at the 'Gabriel' taht passed so easily across her tongue then from her lips.

"Sylar!" he called, half in answer to her question, half in demand that she say that title instead.

"What's he doing?" she asked. "Just talk to me, Gabriel. I can help you."

She got off the bed and advanced on him once more. Her hands were raised and Sylar could see the pale flesh that made up the area of her anatomy. She looked calm and loving as her bare feet felt their way across the carpet. But Sylar could hear her heart beating almost as fast and as hard as his own. The wet sound sloshed her blood around, and it proved she was still alive and still with him. Sylar hadn't let the beast win yet.

"I need you to go to my bedside table," he said through his gritted teeth. His breath was slow and hissing as he tried to keep Sylar at bay enough to talk without the frightening growl. "And look in the drawer."

She obeyed, running backwards, all the while keeping her eyes locked o Sylar's. She unable to breath as his eyes held her life-force from her, like a bully holding a kids lunch money over their head, then laughing as they watched the child desperately jump for it.

Her small hand fumbled on the handle, but she soon got hold of it and ripped it open.

"Get out the restraints." He commanded. It came out as a snarl. "Hurry!"

She jumped and turned pale. Her hands grasped the leather binds fearfully, and as she slowly walked up to Sylar, the way he looked at her made her want to cry out.

Sylar forced himself to sit in his chair, and bade Jane to come forward with a twitch of his finger.

However, as the beast in him pushed forward, so did his power. The simple finger twitch called out his telekinesis and it had Jane pulled across to him.

She let out a small whimper, but swallowed it down as she looked at the binds understood what she had to do.

With shaky hands, She wrapped the largest one around his chest, locking his arms down under the brown leather that looked tougher then a great ocean liners anchor.

"Will this keep you here?" Jane asked in a whisper, not making eye contact with Sylar. Though she knew he was watching her with fierce intensity.

"They're designed to be immune to my various powers." He said through his teeth again. "Hurry up. I can't keep him at bay for ever."

"Right." Jane said, working on the hand binds. "Is there anything I should know..."

Sylar worked hard to keep the beast from this conversation. His large hand grasped Jane's where it rested on the arm of the chair. He watched the back of his eyelids as he slowly put up a flimsy and temporary wall between his thoughts that the monster inside of him's thoughts.

"If this gets bad," Sylar began, biting hard down on his lip as he felt the monster rage at being contained. "Just leave. Ok? I don't know what's going to happen."

"Why are you doing this," Jane asked and for once he recognised the reason behind her trembling. She was afraid. Afraid of losing Sylar to the demon she didn't love and yet depended on for security. She loved him so deeply that he could see her questioning his command to leave. "Where would I go?" she asked, letting tears roll down her face. "My world contains only you."

"No!" Sylar snarled, and this time it wasn't because of the beast's anger, but his own. "You are young and beautiful and I will not - Do you hear me? – not let you depend on me like that. The world is big, Jane."

Jane was almost sobbing now and the wall he had built in himself was crumbling. There was more pressure on her hand then what should have been, and the skin was white and red from his grasp, but neither noticed.

"It's beautiful, and wide, and uncontainable. It deserves to have you unleashed upon it. I am proud to be the reason you leave Bray. Live life for me, Jane."

"Why do you think he's coming back?" she asked, watching Sylar's muscles rippling like a pond.

"It has something to do with you, and ..." But thinking about the beast only tumbled his wall down further. His voice became an angry snarl as he swallowed and looked at Jane soberly. "I do love you. And so does he, remember that for us."

"I won't let you die."

His back arched suddenly, and Jane whipped her hands from his with a cry. His last images of her were a tear sodden mess. Her wide brown eyes were watching him fearfully as he slipped further and further away.

He could only hope that his beast really did love and protect Jane. She'd be safe enough if that was true.


	10. How To Disappear Completely

**(A/N) Warning – explicit language.**

_I'm not here  
This isn't happening  
In a little while  
I'll be gone  
The moment's already passed  
Yeah, it's gone.  
Strobe lights and brown speakers  
Fireworks and hurricanes  
That there, that's not me  
I go where I please  
I'm not here  
This isn't happening  
I'm not here, I'm not here ..._

_-How to Disappear Completely by Radiohead  
_

Jane fell to her knees in a sob as suddenly her Gabriel was no longer distinguishable in those black orbs. She shut her large brown eyes, squeezing out big fat tears that ran down her high cheekbones, and kept them closed as she heard struggling from the chair. Her hands shook so bad that even though she braced them against her belly, they continued to tremor all up her muscles.

"Gabriel," she whispered.

There was a low, angry chuckle from the chair, and the noise of straining and stretching leather and wood stopped. It was a frightening sound, and it had Jane curling into a tight defensive ball.

"Look at you," the voice that sounded so alike Gabriel's said. Jane fought the urge to look up – it _wasn't_ Gabriel. "You're more beautiful then Gabriel's eyes give you credit for."

Jane froze on the carpet, her eyes opening and staring down at the soft carpet she laid so close to.

"Look up at me," Sylar commanded imperiously. "I want to see your face properly."

She couldn't fight that voice, not even if she had wanted to.

Her neck muscles contracted against her mind's wishes. This man killed her love; it was because of the creature that now possessed his body that Gabriel was on the run, why Gabriel has to hide from murderous killers bent on vengeance. Still, she looked up.

Sylar let out a long breath as Jane's glossy eyes connected with his narrowed ones. Jane, however, still fought her body as it trembled with an urge to run to the man in the chair. He was so intense that as Sylar looked at her she felt stripped of her clothes and her skin flayed to the bone. Still, as scary as his whole body told her he was, she couldn't fight the want to be closer to him, nor the feeling that he might be dangerous to other people, but not to her.

She nibbled her bottom lip, and spent her energy trying to stop her legs moving up to him.

"He won't keep you from me any longer," Sylar said angrily, his voice was so convicted it left Jane breathless. "The fool," he spat out the word, "will pay for the danger he placed you in."

After a tender look, Sylar's eyes moved towards the window, and the sun hit his face with glorious warmth. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. Jane watched him the whole time, still stuck in her transfixed state. She couldn't come to grips that this was the same face that her lips had explored the night before, that this was the same face she had for so long associated with Gabriel. As Sylar looked around the room with long appreciative breaths, the face seemed to come to life with him, and transform into a new mask. Or maybe this was the absence of a mask.

Sylar's eyes found Jane again, and he smiled.

"Speak to me," he said slowly. His tongue and lips made the words otherworldly.

"I won't let Gabriel die," she said, working up all the courage her young 17 years had given her.

Sylar's eyes caught a steely glint as he observed her in the sun's light. Jane's breath made her chest heave up and down, and her eyes were wide as she looked at him.

"Don't you understand what he was doing to you?" Sylar asked.

Jane's eyes darted down before she raised them bravely. "He loved me. He was gentler on me then you would have been-"

"Don't try and pretend," Sylar said in a low and dangerous voice. "You like it when he's rough. I'd be rougher, this is true, but you'd like me rougher."

Jane refused to let her body react to the sentence, though she could feel a warming, liquid like feeling that started in belly and began to sink further. He winked at her and Jane had to work to stay focussed.

"Then what do you mean? I love Gabriel, and he loves me. He was protecting me from everyone, and from _you_."

Sylar's jaw ticked, and took awhile to respond.

"Don't ... " he began and underneath it all Jane could see him seethe. "I love you more than anything else in this world. And he didn't listen to me! I've lost lots of people who I've cared for," he said to her. "I wasn't about to let you join the list."

"Can you sense something?" Jane asked timidly, her lips curling into a grimace; a habit she had when she didn't understand something.

"You would have died had I not been allowed to come out and protect you," Sylar said, gaining composure and raising his head. He noticed that she now knelt near his feet with her hands wrapping around in an anxious ball. "But now I'm out I know you're okay."

Jane gave a small nod, and moved her hands to his restraints. He leaned forward, and smelt her strong, warm smell of jasmine as she untied his right hand. Happily, the hand moved to be placed against her small neck. His fingers entwined with her hair, and Jane froze suddenly.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her wide eyes staring at the left arms' restraints.

"You loved us both, Jane. We're one in the same. We both love you." Jane made her grimace as she fumbled with the left hand restraints. "You gave him your love, what makes me different?"n

Jane ignored the question as she started to work on the restraints that, minutes ago, she had wrapped around her beloved.

They fell to the floor with a soft clunk, and Jane froze as she realized how close to Sylar she had become. His dark power, ten times as radiant as it had been with Gabriel, drew her into him and made her yearn for closeness. The man made her feel protected.

She took a deep breath and stood back onto her feet. Sylar followed, maintaining the close distance between them.

"I have to get ready for school," she said quietly, looking down at the floor where his feet stood, planted firmly.

"Good, normalcy is a good cover. You go to school and I'll start packing." His jaw was set as his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Packing," Jane breathed, her big eyes gazing up at the man.

"Yes, Jane." Sylar said, running a hand down the length of her hair. "I'm going to finally get out of here. That idiot backed you into a corner-"

Jane didn't hear the rest. In that heart stopping moment she realized that she was going to achieve the one thing she had wanted for so long – she was going to leave Bray. And with the man, or men, of her dreams.

She made an involuntary grimace, but ignored it as her happiness overcame her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Leaning up to him, she closed her eyes and let her small hands run up the length of his chest. Touching him was supposed to be like touching the root of all evil, and yet all she wanted was to touch him more – and to have him touch her.

Why did it seem that everyone seemed to hate this man? He was all passion – not evil.

Sylar chuckled darkly and wrapped his hands round Jane's tiny waste and pulled her to him tightly. He moved her hands so that she held his neck, and that's when they joined in a kiss.

He kissed just like Gabriel, but there was anger and passion behind the kiss. She felt herself getting lost into it as he lifted her off the floor with the embrace. As she began to wonder if Sylar was liking it just as much as she, Jane found herself up against the wall with Sylar's body hard against hers. She was gasping for breath as he kissed her bare shoulder and ran his hand up her legs and brought them around him. His large chiselled hands ran across her jaw, applying pressure as he pulled her closer to him.

There was a knock at the door, and Jane fought against Sylar as he fumbled with his boxers. There was another knock and this time her mother's voice floated through the door.

"Gabriel," she called. "I forgot if you liked your eggs sunny side up or scrambled."

"Scrambled," Sylar growled, dropping Jane to the ground.

"Are you sure?" Susan called. The door knob began to turn, and Jane was suddenly thrown into the closet by Sylar.

"Yes," Sylar said imperiously as he leaned against the wall where he just had Jane pinned.

"Oh, good," Susan said, looking down at the floor and backing out of the room.

Jane could only assume it was Sylar's suddenly dangerous attitude that had Susan leaving so quickly. If it had been Gabriel, Susan wouldn't have left for another 30 minutes.

"Have you seen Jane, by the way?" her eyes glanced around the room. She noted the ruffled bed spread with a sniff, but didn't manage to give Sylar a disapproving look.

"No," Sylar said, observing his nails. "Maybe she went to school already."

"Thank you," Susan said formally, backing out of the room and closing the door quietly behind her.

Jane stumbled out again, picking a tie off her head as she slipped on one of Sylar's shirts. Sylar watched her with a smile as she blew out a frustrated breath and pulled a face at him.

"We'll go to New York." Sylar said, his mind flashing forward to the distant future where he saw plans folding out. He quirked a smile at her and beckoned her in. "I'll take you away from here and finally keep you safe."

**OOO**

Jane's hands moved with careful precision as she leafed through her possessions. Gym shoes, Shorts, sweaty beater; things she could leave behind. A picture of her sister and herself at the age of five; Jane was scared of the ducks by the river, and Sasha held her hand tightly as she encouraged her little sister to give them bread from her palm. She removed it from the door and placed it gently in her wallet.

It was at that moment that Sasha walked by, nose in air and snide expression on her mouth and her friend Diana with her.

"Hey, Sasha," Jane said sweetly, readjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Whatever." Sasha said as she passed by.

Though, Diana gave a sympathetic smile. Jane grimaced uncertainly and turned back to her locker.

She could care less about the various texts she had stored away, but she did pick her biology text book for her last class.

Sasha was just rounding the corner, and Jane enjoyed a last view of the sister who would never know how much Jane had loved her. And hated her.

Jane quickly turned the other way, ready to finish up her life in Bray.

**OOO**

Mohinder had been watching the girl through the whole class. He constantly struggled to find and understand what on behind those deep honey brown eyes. And Jane would have noticed this, had she not been caught up in her own longing thoughts as she gazed out the second story window.

When the bell finally rang, Jane was finally drawn out of her thoughts, and quickly started packing her stuff up in a daze. Other students filed out, depressed with a knowledge that they'd be back again; Jane slowed slightly, depressed with a knowledge that she never would.

"Ah, Jane," Mohinder said, standing by her desk.

Jane looked up. "Yes, Mr. Brown?"

"May I speak to you?"

Mohinder was using his gentlest voice. It was a strain not to just tuck the girl under his arm and take her away from Sylar, but he managed it.

Jane looked anxiously at the door.

"It _is_ rather delicate," Mohinder said, standing in her line of vision, "Please."

He brought her over to his strategically placed chair: a little ways off from his desk so she didn't feel pressured, but close enough to create some intimacy. She sat down awkwardly, brushing at her jeans and looking at the heavy piles of text books piled on one side of the desk.

"What did I-" Jane coughed awkwardly, then went on, "What is it?"

The door opened and Diana's head poked in. Her blond hair fell over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"Ah," Mohinder looked relieved. "Elle."

**OOO**

Sylar walked out of the travel agents, shuffling the airplane tickets in his hand happily as he whistled a tune. First class of course, courtesy of the open wallet of Susan Hart. The crime, no matter how petty, felt good.

He still felt all tensed up, but he knew it wasn't the petty crime that had him feeling in want.

It was Jane. The very thought of him made his blood catch fire, and his hands tighten into balls. She had requested one day to tie up her loose ends. And he had agreed because she never missed school – so an absence would raise a flag.

But once he had her in New York, he'd _have_ her.

He had been forced to watch as Gabriel forced distance between them, had almost kissed her. He had wanted that woman the moment he heard her thoughts flow into his as Gabriel snuck them around the back of the house. He had watched her slowly fill the void the absence of their love made, but turning to a fool of a boy for something.

He had come forward when Gabriel had given himself completely over to their power, and he had been the one to draw the future that he wanted, the future he would find. It wasn't a predicted future, it was a future that Sylar would bring about.

Sitting down in the black interior if his black car, Sylar adjusted his mirror to a more appropriate angle.

"Can't you feel it?"

Gabriel was sitting in the back seat, arms crossed and gazing at him.

"Feel what," Sylar growled.

"Jane," Gabriel began. "You're putting your plans for revenge in front of her safety-"

Sylar's jaw ticked, and he concentrated all his energy on bottling Gabriel out. He had no right to lecture Sylar on protecting Jane – he was doing a better job than that idiot ever could.

He could feel Gabriel rage up inside of him, and simply ignored him. He had more things to deal with.

Maybe he'd commit Grand Theft to take this edge off before he went back to the Hart place to collect Jane.

Again he closed his eyes and thought of that pert body. He'd enjoy it.

With his wicked, level eyed smile, Sylar peeled away from the sidewalk and skidded into traffic.

_Stupid Gabriel_, he thought, _Jane is perfectly safe. This is Bray after all._

**OOO**

"I've got the camera." Elle said, winking at the terrified expression on Jane's face.

"Well," Mohinder said, gesturing to the TV in front of the chalk board, "put it in."

Elle nodded obediently, forgiving Mohinder's impertinence for the fun she'd have with Jane; Her only link to Sylar.

She moved quickly to hook the camera to the monitor, and pressed a few buttons on the TV.

All the while, Jane stared at her back, watching the golden strands of hair sweep past her waist. She was beautiful – and yet so deceiving, Jane could see that now.

Oh, if she had only seen it before.

"You know why we're here, of course," Mohinder said, testing his delicacy once more.

"N-No..." once in doubt, deny.

Elle sprang up impatiently. "Yes, you do!" she accused.

Jane sat tight lipped. She'd do her man proud.

"Fine."

Mohinder regretted brining Elle into this. Instead of being a comforting female to the terrified Jane, Elle was now happily pressing the play button on the camera, turning the blue screen into the streamed video.

Jane could see herself underneath Gabriel, her arms held above her head as he ripped her white nightgown off, and began to tug off his own black shirt. The camera was shaky, and you could hear the camera picking up Mohinder's indignant and disgusted gasps as he filmed.

Jane was mortified.

She got up to run, but Elle quickly stretched out her hand and electrified the door handle until it stuck fast; melted. Jane reached it and began tugging violently at it – but it didn't budge.

"He is a sick man, Jane!' Mohinder said, getting up from his desk. "Don't you know what he does?"

Jane refused to listen, but pounded against the high window of the door.

"He's tried to kill girls younger then you."

Jane turned around, angrily. "So it's you two that he's been running from?"

"Yes," Mohinder said, advancing slowly. "Don't you wonder why he's running though? I bet he hasn't told you."

"He's different now!" Jane yelled.

Elle giggled, moving up to Jane. Her eyes sparked and her hair raised from the static electricity around her. "What?" she asked venomously. "And you think you changed him, don't you?"

Jane remained still, her hold body responding to the dangerous current this girl controlled. This time, she wasn't drawn to it.

"You'll never change a man like that! He hates everything he touches. It all rots and squirms, and dies trying to escape." Elle was screaming now, and Mohinder was stuck, dumbfounded at the anger.

"I love him," Jane said, quietly but with conviction.

"Jane," Mohinder began softly, "you don't understand the man you think you love."

Elle turned towards him sharply. "Maybe she's a lost cause, Mohinder. Maybe she likes it rough."

She swung her head back to look at Jane,

"Is that true? When he's practically raping you, Jane, do you enjoy it?" She gestured back to the video that still played, to where Sylar was forcing Jane's legs apart. "I bet you do, your his dirty, little sl-"

Jane slapped Elle hard.

Suddenly, before Jane had any time to realize what she had incurred, Elle's hands were outstretched and shooting white/blue streaks of electricity towards her.

"Elle!" shouted Mohinder, but she ignored him. And he was forced to watch as Jane lay on the ground, twisting and crying out with the immense pain that ran all up her body.

**OOO**

Sylar suddenly stopped mid packing. His eyes gazed forward and his whole body rumbled and shook.

"You feel it now, don't you?" Gabriel asked, standing at his left with a glint in his eyes. "She's-"

"In danger."

Sylar let a loud scream rip out of him, as he tore out of his bedroom, down the stairs, out the back door, and into his car.

"I warned you, you fucked up piece of shit!" Gabriel was sitting next to him in the car, shaking his head furiously.

"Where's the school?"

"Six blocks south. You'll never make it."

"I manage to keep her alive for months!" Gabriel ranted. "And _you_ show up, thinking you know best, and now look!"

"Who is it?"

Sylar's anger was so profound, he felt tears burning his cheeks.

Gabriel was wiping his own away as he replied. "How do I fucking know?"

"I-I thought she was safe here..."

"She's never safe with us. We ruin everything. We're evil."

"You sound like Bennett."

"He was right. I should have locked us up."

Sylar pressed his foot even further down. Their silence was intense for a few minutes more.

"She'll die," Gabriel said, silently weeping. "She'll die and I will die with her."

Sylar swerved against the wet muddy grass of the school yard.

"If she dies," he grunted, throwing open his door, "I will live long enough for everyone to know what they killed."

OOO

Mohinder grabbed Elle by the shoulders and spun her around, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't hurt her, Elle." Mohinder pleaded. "You're better than that."

She stopped, and bowed her head.

Jane was struggling to stand, gasping with pain as he muscles tried to leave her body. Her face was covered in tears and dust from the floor. There were razor blades in her whole body, and she whimpered slightly as she fell down after an attempt to get back up.

Elle walked disdainfully away as Mohinder bent down to help Jane.

Jane screamed out and pushed at his hands.

"Fuck you! Sylar will hurt me? Ha!" She managed to push herself up, and stood shakily with one hand against the door to keep her up. "Ha! You will hurt me before he does!"

"I don't understand how you can desperately cling to a man who's killed so much." Mohinder said in frustration, shaking his head.

"I see in him a good I don't see in others," she glanced at Elle who was bracing herself against a desk with her eyes shut tight. "All he needs is a chance..."

"Too many people have died," Mohinder said vehemently.

Jane began eyeing the window. This man apparently wouldn't listen to her, nor change his idea about Sylar, or Gabriel. He would hunt her love down until they cornered him, caught him, and killed him.

"Don't worry, Jane," Mohinder said, running a hand down her hair then onto her shoulder. "Where we're taking you, you'll get better. I think you'll find that with a few weeks of our care, once Sylar is caught, you won't be 'needing' him so much."

Elle caught a smile on her lips and moved to look out the window. Jane would be trapped in one of her father's cement cell blocks until Sylar was caught. During those gruelling weeks she'd be examined by therapists, drugged beyond belief, and protected so that Sylar couldn't come and get her. Then, once Sylar was killed, so as not to have her make a fuss, her mind would be wiped by the Haitian, and released to a different family, in a different city, never to know of Jane and of Sylar again.

It was then she saw the black the car. She saw it, and recognised it, in the same moment. And it was the same moment that the door was ripped off its hinges and Jane sucked back by an invisible force in a blink of an eye.


End file.
